


Lost and Found

by Kristen_Hudson



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:56:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23567200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kristen_Hudson/pseuds/Kristen_Hudson
Summary: Stoick Vastley lost his infant son in a fire eighteen years ago.  Hiccup Haddock was abandoned as a baby on a police station doorstep.  Both of them have given up on ever having a family of their own...until fate gives them a second chance.
Comments: 56
Kudos: 53





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I really didn't need to begin another story, but this idea occurred to me and I couldn't resist. I'm a huge Anglophile. It developed in childhood from reading Frances Hodgson Burnett and Noel Streatfeild, and has continued well into adulthood with a variety of Gothic mysteries and the incomparable Harry Potter books. Since this story is set in England, I'm trying to make it more authentic with British spellings and terms--but as the old saying goes, I know just enough to be dangerous! Please forgive any mistakes in this area.
> 
> And if you enjoy reading, please leave a review! It makes an author happy!

Prologue  
The grey tabby meowed plaintively as he watched his human rush into the large airy kitchen, which looked very like a medieval hall, or at least what a medieval hall would have looked like if modern amenities had been invented in the Middle Ages. The man, a stocky fellow in his mid-forties, balding but with a luxurious blond mustache, looked as if he would have more comfortable in a rugby uniform than the Italian wool three-piece suit he was wearing. Indeed, Gobber (Gulliver) Bell had been a star for Eton’s rugby team in years gone by. But those days had long passed and Gobber was now an advisor and ‘right-hand man’ for his oldest and closest friend--Stoick Vastley, the Duke of Berkshire.

“Of all days for Mabel Bly to take sick,” he exclaimed, pulling on his suit jacket and tugging at his silk tie, and somehow managing to look even more rumpled than before. “Got to be in London by ten and now there’s no time for breakfast. I ask you, Grump, how’s a man supposed to survive meeting with the most pig-headed board of directors in the history of the world on an empty stomach?”

Grump yowled even more demandingly as he wove in and out between Gobber’s feet. Whether the human ate or not was his own affair, but Grump was going to be most displeased if a tuna breakfast didn’t appear in his food bowl in short order.

“Ah, hush up, you old moggie. I haven’t forgotten you.” Gobber knelt to set some food in the cat’s bowl and scratched behind the tabby’s ears. Feeling more cheerful now that he had been served his morning meal, Grump pushed his head against Gobber’s large hand and purred in gratitude.

Gobber straightened. “Well, I’m having my coffee at any rate.” He switched on the flat-screen television set into a wide space on the brick wall. “Let’s see what the traffic’s like on the M4 this morning.”

He bustled over to fix a cup of coffee while a woman’s cheery voice announced, “Welcome to “The Morning Show” and I’m Atali McIver. If you’re just tuning in, today we have a very special guest. We’re going to be talking about the incredible, true life, rags-to-riches story of young Hiccup Haddock, the author whose Dragon Quartet books have taken the world by storm.”

There was loud applause and cheering from the studio audience as a young man came onscreen. Gobber spared a glance at the telly, just as it showed a close-up of the young man’s face, and he almost dropped his coffee mug. Staring in open-mouthed amazement, he set the cup down on the counter and went to stand directly in front of the set, watching intently as the television host greeted her guest.

Hiccup Haddock looked obviously uncomfortable at his fans’ wild acclaim, but he smiled shyly at the crowd and dipped his head towards them before shaking hands with the smart, well-dressed woman from the show. He was average height and very lean (an uncharitable person might have said ‘scrawny’), with chestnut hair and a thin face. He wore black trousers with an emerald-green Oxford shirt that matched his eyes. 

“The spitting image of Valka,” Gobber murmured to himself.

“Good morning, Mr. Haddock. We’re so glad you could be here,” Atali said, as she seated herself in an armchair set on the stage and gestured for Hiccup to take the accompanying chair.

“Um, thank you for inviting me,” Hiccup responded. “And um, you can call me Hiccup. No one calls me Mr. Haddock.”

“So is Hiccup your real name?” Atali asked. “It’s quite unusual, isn’t it? I know a lot of people believe that you chose it as a nom de plume, for your books, to hide your identity.”

“No, it’s my real name,” Hiccup answered quietly. “Yes, it is unusual. When I started the books, I never expected them to be successful, and I was pretty young then anyway, so it never occurred to me to use a false name.”

“Let’s come back to the books in just a minute,” the host smiled. “I admit I’m very curious about your name. How did you come to be called Hiccup, if you don’t mind my asking?”  
Hiccup actually didn’t look entirely comfortable at the question but he answered politely. “Mrs. Jensen told me that it was because I was so small as a baby. I was just a hiccup, you see, and no one knew my real name, or if I even had one, so everyone started calling me Hiccup and it became my name.”

“And how did Haddock become your surname?”  
“Well, apparently the Jensens were having haddock for dinner the night they were choosing my name, and so Mr. Jensen suggested it.” Hiccup smiled wryly. “The Jensens are very nice people, but maybe not so great at names.” 

“And who are the Jensens?”

“Sven and Phlegma Jensen are the directors of the Forge Street Children’s Home, where I grew up.” Hiccup’s voice was quiet.

Atali hesitated before pressing gently, “So it’s true that you were found on-“

“On the doorstep of the London Police Department, Snow Hill branch, when I was approximately three months old. I was even wrapped in a blanket in a basket, just like a fairy tale. Except that there was no mysterious note with a clue to my real identity.” Hiccup’s smile had grown tight. “So I was taken to the Forge Street Children’s Home. I lived there until six months ago, when I aged out of the system.”

“It definitely does sound like something from a storybook,” the morning show host remarked.

“Yes,” Hiccup said quietly. “Except that it’s my life, and being abandoned is not very exciting or fun in real life.”

There was an awkward pause and then Atali moved on smoothly. “Speaking of storybooks, could you tell us how you came about writing the Dragon Quartet books?”

Hiccup seemed more relieved now that they were talking about his books. “Oh, well, it could be a little lonely growing up in the ChiIdren’s Home and I’ve always had a crazy imagination. So as far back as I can remember, I made up a group of imaginary friends. And I loved dragons, so I pretended that my imaginary friends found a nest of dragon eggs, and the eggs hatched. Then I just made up all these wild adventures for the kids and their dragons.”

“But every child pretends make-believe stories,” Atali pointed out. “How did you go from being an imaginative child to a best-selling author?”

Hiccup considered. “Well, I don’t know if you remember, but the summer when I was twelve, the weather in London was just really horrible. There were thunderstorms, and it poured buckets of rain almost every day, and we kids didn’t get to spend much time outside. I guess because I was bored and having to spend so much time cooped up, that was when it occurred to me to try writing my stories down, to see if I could write them as books.” 

He gave a small, self-deprecating shrug. “So that’s how it started.” 

“So you began writing the Dragon Quartet books when you were only twelve years old?”

“The first book, yes,” Hiccup agreed. He smiled again, a real smile with a flash of genuine humour. “Obviously, it went through some revision and editing before it was published.”

Watching from home in the little village of Eastbury, Gobber spoke aloud to himself again, “He’s got Valka’s smile, too.”

Atali shook her head slightly. “It’s certainly an impressive feat. Now, rumour has it that you wrote the books out by hand, in spiral notebooks.”

“That’s true,” Hiccup agreed again. “I did.”

“I guess the Children’s Home didn’t have computers?” Atali asked. 

“There were a few,” Hiccup answered. “But they were mostly for schoolwork, and they were strictly monitored. So I wrote in notebooks.”

“Those notebooks might be worth a lot of money someday,” Atali commented. “The notebooks with the original Dragon Quartet stories.”

“I don’t know about that,” Hiccup grinned again. “But maybe I’ll hang on to them, just in case.” 

“I’m sure they will be,” Atali continued. “After all, Book One became hugely successful, almost overnight it seemed. It’s sold over a million copies in print, and been on top of all the bestseller lists. Book Two is on track to sell even more, which is amazing since it was only released a few weeks ago. And Warner Brothers is negotiating for movie rights, too, aren’t they?”

Hiccup nodded. “It’s been a whirlwind.” 

“It was just six months ago that The Dragon Quartet, Book One was published. Tell me, could you have ever imagined this kind of success six months ago?”

Hiccup immediately shook his head. “Oh no, I still can’t believe it. I mean, six months ago I was about to age out of the foster care system and I didn’t know what was going to become of me. I did have the option of attending a trade school, but I really wanted to be an author. I guess it had become a dream, to share my stories, to have a book published. But I was afraid that no one else would like them, and I knew the odds were against me. I almost didn’t even try. You know, I almost didn’t send the first book out.”

“But then I thought that I didn’t have anything to lose and when I looked up publishers and literary agents, I saw the Dragon’s Edge Company. I thought that was a funny coincidence, with my books being about dragons and all. So I sent a manuscript in and then Eret—that’s Eret Eretson, my agent—called to say that they liked it and they wanted to take a chance on it.” 

Hiccup shrugged slightly again. “It just seemed like it was meant to be, you know.” 

Atali smiled. “It’s certainly paid off, for them and for you. And there’s a third book as well?” 

“I’ve written four books, actually,” Hiccup explained. “The third one is due out next spring, and I’m not sure when the fourth one will be released yet. I’m still editing it.” 

“That is truly amazing,” Atali remarked. “And you’re still just eighteen, aren’t you?”

Hiccup nodded. “Yes, my birthday will be next March. Of course, I don’t know my real actual birth date, but I was left on the doorstep on the first of June, and since I was about three months old, the Jensens put down March first as my birthday.” 

In Eastbury, Gobber spoke to the boy on the television screen. “If you’re who I think you might be, then your birthday is February 29.”

Then he realized that while he had been speaking, Atali McIver must have been saying good-bye to Hiccup Haddock, because they had both stood up and were shaking hands. 

Gobber leaned forward and watched closely as Hiccup walked off-stage.

“Hmm, he’s not limping,” he mused. “But I suppose that leg could have been taken care of.”

Gobber reached for the remote and switched the television off, then took a sip of his coffee, making a face when he realized that it had gone cold. 

He called a number on his phone while re-heating the coffee in the microwave. “Hey, George. Gobber here. Clear my schedule for today—and tomorrow too, while you’re at it. Yea, I know they won’t like it. But something’s come up, something important, and I’ve got to deal with it. I should be back in the office Monday. Thanks, George.”

Taking the mug of warm-once-more coffee, Gobber walked into the adjoining keeping room and sank down into a beige leather armchair. He drank his coffee slowly, staring thoughtfully into space, until Grump jumped into his lap and pushed at his hand, demanding attention.

“Hey watch it, Your Majesty. You almost made me spill hot coffee on you.” Gobber set the mug aside and patted the cat’s head. “What am I supposed to do now, Grump? It’s impossible, it’s got to be. Little Hamish died in that fire.”

Gobber absently scratched Grump behind the ears, before speaking again. “But they never found the baby’s body, and that boy looks exactly like Valka--well, if Valka had been a boy, that is. But it isn’t just that. He’s the right age, abandoned with no family, no history. It’s got to be him. It’s just too suspicious. Isn’t it?”

“And how do I tell Stoick?” Gobber asked the cat. “I can’t just ring him up and say, ‘Oh, by the way, I think your dead son isn’t really dead and I just saw him on the telly’, can I? But he needs to know. If that boy really is Hamish, it would mean everything to Stoick, everything. And to the boy too.” 

Gobber stared into space for a long while, before slowly reaching for his phone again. He punched a number and waited until a hearty voice greeted him. 

“Well, top of the morning to you too, you old Viking.” Gobber’s smile vanished as he took a deep breath and continued.

“Hey, Stoick, there’s a reason I’m calling…”


	2. Chapter One

Chapter One

Hiccup switched the television set off and turned to look at the shaggy black dog sitting on the burgundy leather sofa beside him.

“Pretty bad, huh? I sounded like a complete dork, and I told her way too much personal stuff. That’s always been rule number one. No one gets to know about my past or my personal life, and then I just go and blab away on national television. How did I ever let Eret talk me into doing that interview?”

Hiccup shook his head and then continued firmly, “No more though. That’s the last publicity stunt for a long time, whether Eret likes it or not.”

The black dog pushed his head under Hiccup’s hand and nudged him. Hiccup smiled and scratched behind the dog’s ears.

“Do people even say ‘dork’ anymore, Toothless? For a popular author, I’m ridiculously out of touch.” 

Toothless barked and licked his human’s cheek. 

Hiccup laughed. “What? You don’t care about that and it’s time for our morning walk? Okay, I hear you.”

He glanced down at his worn T-shirt and plaid pajama trousers. “Just give me a minute to get dressed.” 

He leaned over to touch his forehead to Toothless’. “I’m so glad I found you, bud. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Then Hiccup stood, stretched, and made his way through the spacious living room to his bedroom beyond, with Toothless following at his heels. The dog promptly jumped onto the bed—neatly made up for Hiccup found it hard to shake old habits instilled from the Children’s Home, one of which was to make the bed as soon as he rose in the mornings. 

Hiccup just smiled at him as he quickly changed to a blue track suit and put on a pair of black trainers. 

He paused for a moment, to look appreciatively at the row of shoes lined up in the shoe cubby built into the closet wall. Hiccup had been born with his left leg a half inch shorter than his right. The Children’s Home had provided him with orthopedic shoes, most of the time, but money was tight and there had been times when he’d outgrown an old pair and had to wait a few weeks for a new one, forcing him to limp around and walk unevenly.

When the Dragon Quartet books had become popular, one of the first things Hiccup had done had been to have a dozen pair of various types of shoes custom-made to fit him perfectly and with a special lift concealed in the soles of the left ones. Surgeons had regretfully told Hiccup that, at the age of eighteen, it was too late to fix his leg, but at least with his custom-made shoes, he could walk comfortably and normally and no one could tell the difference.

Toothless barked again, pulling Hiccup from his reverie, and he quickly attached a lead to the dog’s red collar. A minute later they were leaving the five-story townhouse on Park Lane, where Hiccup lived on the top floor. They crossed the busy street with the light and spent the next hour walking and jogging in Hyde Park.

When they returned, the doorman greeted Hiccup politely. “Good morning, sir. Have a nice run?”

“Yes, thanks, Fred, and it’s ‘Hiccup’, not ‘sir’.”

But the doorman shook his head. “Sorry, sir but you know I’d get in trouble with management if I called the residents by name. Most of them aren’t as egalitarian as you.”

Hiccup shook his head. “You mean most of them are a bunch of stuck-up snobs.”

Fred grinned. “You said it, sir. Not me.”

Hiccup grinned back. “The truth hurts sometimes. See you later, Fred.”

Back in his flat, Hiccup refilled Toothless’ water bowl and drank a glass of water himself, then went off to shower and dress in jeans and a faded grey hoodie. 

“All right, bud. Time to get some work done.” He settled down at his desk, tucked into a corner of the living room by the windows overlooking the park and tapped the keys on the computer. “Still feels strange not to be writing in my notebooks, but this is a lot easier.”

Hiccup read through some of the pages on the screen and sighed. “I am so far behind on editing this book.” 

He glanced down at Toothless, stretched out on the rug by the desk. “It’s not entirely my fault though. Eret’s kept me so busy lately with book signings and readings and interviews that I don’t know if I’m coming or going.”

Toothless thumped his tail against the floor sleepily and closed his eyes.

Hiccup smiled at him. “Well, I’m staying put for a while now, so no more excuses.” He turned his attention back to the computer screen and began typing, but only a short time later his phone rang--the ringtone a loud roar which Hiccup supposed was probably a lion or tiger but which he liked to pretend could be a dragon’s call.

Hiccup scowled at the phone. There were only a handful of people who had his number and only one of them called on a regular basis. 

“Eret, I already told you no more publicity stuff. I’ve got to—," Hiccup broke off as he realized that the voice on the phone wasn’t Eret’s.

“Fred?”

“I’m sorry to bother you, Mr. Haddock,” the doorman said in a crisp, professional tone that let Hiccup know he was speaking in front of someone. “But you have a guest who would like to come up.”

Hiccup frowned. He wasn’t scheduled to meet with anyone today and he didn’t have any friends, with the possible exception of Eret. The Jensens kept a close eye on things at the Home, but they couldn’t force children to get along and Hiccup had always been the weird, gimpy kid who was useless at sports and sat around writing in a notebook all the time. In spite of the Jensens’ efforts, there had been a few kids who mocked and bullied him, and even the ones who didn’t simply ignored him. 

It hadn’t been a great upbringing for learning social skills, and six months after leaving the Children’s Home, Hiccup still felt that he was completely hopeless at making friends. His newfound wealth didn’t help. The few times he had ventured out to dinners and events, he had been besieged by people who were obviously only interested in his fame and money. Well, Hiccup preferred spending quiet evenings at home anyway. He didn’t need anyone except Toothless, at least that’s what he told himself.

But that didn’t answer the question of who this unexpected guest might be. “Who is it?”

“Mr. Gulliver Bell, sir.”

Hiccup tried to remember if he had ever been introduced to such a person. Was Gulliver Bell the Scholastic Books representative? Or could he be from the Warner Brothers studio? But Hiccup didn’t think so, and he couldn’t imagine that any of his business associates would just drop by his apartment unannounced.

Fred spoke again. “He says it’s important that he speak with you.”

Hiccup sighed. “All right, Fred. Send him up. But have security standing by, all right? We don’t want another ‘crazed fan’ episode like the lady with the towel.”

Fred smothered a laugh. “Of course, sir.”

Hiccup switched his phone off and glanced around. At least the flat looked nice. Housekeeping always came in to clean while he walked Toothless in the mornings, and he was naturally a neat and tidy person anyway. Growing up in the Home, he had learned quickly that any possessions left lying about were apt to disappear. 

His own appearance was another story. He was wearing his most comfortable clothes and hadn’t even bothered to run a brush through his hair after towelling it dry. But oh well….

“If someone’s going to come by unannounced, then they’re going to have to take us like we are. Right, Toothless?”

Toothless opened his eyes and climbed to his feet as Hiccup pushed his chair back and stood up too. When the bell rang, Hiccup went to open the door and studied the man standing there—tall and sturdy, blond mustache, expensive-looking dark suit, with a brown envelope tucked under his arm.

For his part, Gobber also found himself trying not to stare as he met the young man who he believed could be the son of his two closest friends. 

Hiccup looked much as he had onscreen--skinny and average height, though nearly a full head shorter than Gobber, who was almost as tall as Stoick. With his casual clothing and unruly hair, the boy looked even younger than his eighteen years. Except for the cynical expression in the boy’s eyes, Gobber decided. That belonged to someone older, someone who had learned that the world could be cruel and that people weren’t always kind.

Gobber felt a vague sadness at that. Those wide emerald-green eyes, so much like Valka’s, should be joyful and eager to experience life, as hers always had been—at least until the end when she had lost her baby and her will to live.

His mournful thoughts were interrupted by a bark and he looked down to see a medium-sized shaggy black dog, which suddenly jumped at him, tail wagging.

“Toothless, no! Down!” Hiccup ordered, as he pulled the dog away. He turned back to his guest. “I’m sorry. He’s usually well-behaved.”

Gobber smiled and knelt, reaching out a hand towards the dog. Toothless sniffed the man’s fingers and wagged his tail even harder.

“It’s all right. He’s a good sort, isn’t he?” He patted the dog’s head and stood up straight again. “I’ve always been fond of dogs, though I have a cat now. Never thought I’d have a cat, but one day this battered, half-starved old moggy strolled into my garden. Well, I had to give him some food—any decent person would. Next thing I know, he’s moved into the house and completely taken over.” 

Hiccup had to smile. “That sounds like how I got Toothless. I found him a couple months ago, starving and hiding in an alley, trying to find some shelter from the rain. So I had to bring him home, and now he rules the roost.” 

“Ah, they do that,” Gobber said cheerfully.

Hiccup realized that they were still standing in the doorway. “Um, please come in. Mr. Bell?”

“Oh, you can call me Gobber. Thanks for seeing me. I guess it was rude to just show up like this, but I needed to speak with you. I think it could be very important to you.”

/I hope he’s not about to make some sales pitch./ Hiccup forced himself to gesture towards the sofa, as Toothless flopped down on the floor beside it. “Please sit down, Mr. Bell. I don’t believe we’ve met before?”

Gobber froze for just an instant before taking a seat and setting the envelope on the coffee table. “Actually, we may have, a long time ago. But you wouldn’t remember, of course. You were just a baby then.”

/Even worse, another long-lost relative coming to claim the poor little rich orphan./ Hiccup’s smile grew chilly. “Oh?”

Gobber nodded. “I saw you on the telly this morning, and well, I believe you might be my old friend’s son.”

/Well, that’s a different twist, instead of claiming me directly./ Hiccup raised an eyebrow and repeated, “Oh?” 

“Yes. You see, my friend’s son supposedly died in a fire as an infant, eighteen years ago. But they never found the baby’s body, which we didn’t think was suspicious at the time. It was a devastating fire. The child’s nanny died in it as well.”

Gobber paused and Hiccup, in spite of his cynicism, felt he had to murmur, “I’m sorry.”

“But then I saw you, and you’re the exact image of Valka—that was my friend’s wife. And when I heard you explain about your past, it was so uncanny that I felt I had to see you in person.” Gobber shook his head in amazement. “And in person, you’re even more like her. I really think you might be the missing child.”

“Mr. Bell—,” Hiccup began.

Only for Gobber to interrupt, “Gobber. Everyone calls me Gobber.” He waved a hand. “It’s odd, I know, but all of us old mates from school gave each other strange names. Except for your dad. I guess because his name was already a bit unusual. His name’s Stoick--Stoick Vastley.” Gobber looked at him expectantly, but the name meant nothing to Hiccup. 

“Mr. Bell,” he repeated. “Do you have any idea how many of my long-lost relatives have popped out of the woodwork these past few months? Strangely, none of them had any interest in locating me before I became wealthy.” 

Gobber looked at him sympathetically. “Aye, I’m sorry, lad. There are a lot of greedy people in the world, for sure. But I can promise you that if Stoick had had any inkling that you were alive, he would have moved Heaven and earth to find you. He and Valka were over the moon when you were born. I never saw a couple so ecstatic over a baby. Losing you almost killed Stoick. I think it did kill your mother.”

Hiccup was far from convinced, but Gobber’s words were moving. He had to remind himself firmly not to fall for anything without some hard evidence. Just because he had always craved having a family of his own didn’t mean that he was so desperate he would accept a bunch of gold diggers in their place.

Nonetheless, he had to respond to Gobber’s statement and ask quietly, “What happened to her?”

“Car accident. About a year after the fire,” Gobber answered. “She lived for a few days, but she was so worn out from grief that she didn’t have any strength left to fight.”  
He shook his head. “That was a hard time.”

They were silent for a moment; then Gobber continued. “After that, your dad threw himself into running his businesses and his estate. That would be Lambourn Hall, out near Lambourn in West Berkshire. You see, Stoick Vastley is the Duke of Berkshire.”

Again, he looked over to Hiccup. But Hiccup could only shake his head. “Sorry, I’m not familiar with the nobility.”

“You’ve never heard of the Duke of Berkshire?”

“We didn’t sit around reading ‘Burke’s Peerage’ in the Children’s Home,” Hiccup replied dryly. 

Gobber actually laughed. “I suppose not. But still, it’s one of the oldest titles in England, and one of the most illustrious. Vastleys have married into the Royal Family, served as Prime Ministers, and own a fair bit of high-end real estate here in the city. I’m surprised you didn’t learn of them in school.”

“Well, I might have, but I daydreamed through a lot of my classes. I was always too busy thinking up new adventures for my books,” Hiccup admitted.

“It paid well for you,” Gobber said approvingly. “Becoming a famous author, especially at your age—that’s impressive. Amazing, really. You must have quite the imagination.”

Hiccup looked embarrassed, but he agreed. “I suppose so.” 

“But I can assure you, Stoick doesn’t care whether you have money or not,” Gobber told him. “He’s already one of the wealthiest men in Europe.”

Hiccup studied Gobber thoughtfully. “If Stoick Vastley does think that I might be his son, why are you here? I mean, why didn’t he come to meet me himself?” 

Gobber sighed. “Because he’s not sure, and he’s afraid to hope. You see, losing you and your mum so close together like that, and in such horrible ways—well, he’s never been the same since. Closed himself off, he has, except for me. Lifelong friends we are, and I wouldn’t budge no matter how hard he tried to push me away. Like I said, that was a rough time, and your dad was angry and bitter for a while. It was painful to see, because he’s really a good-hearted, generous soul. He’s better these days, but it’s still hard for him to open up with most people. He’s torn between hoping that you’re little Hamish, and fearing being hurt again.”

“He is willing to meet you though, and have a DNA test done. He agreed for me to give you this,” Gobber reached for the brown envelope and handed it to Hiccup. 

Hiccup looked curiously at the envelope. “What is it?”

“Perhaps some proof that you’re a Vastley,” Gobber replied. “A copy of Hamish’s birth certificate, and some medical reports.”

He looked steadily at Hiccup. “Hamish Vastley was born with a slight leg length discrepancy. He would have had surgery to correct it at the age of six months.”

Hiccup looked back just as steadily. “I never had surgery. My left leg is a half-inch shorter than my right. All my shoes have built-in lifts. But that by itself isn’t proof. I’m not the only person in the world with the condition.”

It was Gobber’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “No, but how many of them are eighteen-year-old young men, with no family history and a striking resemblance to one of the supposed parents?”

Abruptly Hiccup stood and walked over to the windows, staring unseeingly out at the busy London street and the colourful autumn trees in the park beyond.

After a moment, Gobber said quietly, “Stoick told me that if I still believed you were Hamish after meeting you, that I could invite you to Lambourn Hall, to stay for a couple weeks while you wait for the results of the DNA test. Well, I do still believe that you’re Hamish, more than ever. So you’re invited to come to the Hall and meet Stoick…if you want.” 

Hiccup was quiet for so long that Gobber had almost given up on him answering. 

But then Hiccup turned back to face him and gave a small shrug. “Well, why not? What have I got to lose?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Notes: In describing Hiccup’s leg length discrepancy, I don’t mean any insult to the foster care system. I would hope that any child who needed corrective surgery for a physical condition would be able to receive it. I also don’t know whether teenagers and adults can still be helped with surgery. But for the purposes of this story, I decided to have it be too late for an operation to ‘fix’ Hiccup’s leg. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading! If you enjoyed reading, please leave a review. 
> 
> British Terms:
> 
> Trainers—sneakers; athletic shoes.
> 
> Flat—apartment.
> 
> Moggy (also spelled Moggie)—a cat.
> 
> Telly—television.
> 
> Burke’s Peerage—a series of books detailing the genealogy and heraldry of the British nobility.


	3. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

The flat already seemed still and lonely, Hiccup thought, as he glanced about before turning back to the window to look down at the traffic moving along Park Lane. A porter had come earlier to take his luggage down to the lobby and now there was nothing to do except wait for Gobber.

It was hard to believe that it was only the day before when the man had shown up and turned Hiccup’s world upside down. Once Hiccup had accepted the invitation to visit Lambourn Hall, things had moved quickly. They had agreed that Gobber would come by at ten Friday morning to take Hiccup and Toothless out to the Vastley estate in Berkshire and the blond man had left soon after. 

The rest of the day had passed quickly as Hiccup prepared for the trip, packing and letting Eret know that he would be out of town. Hiccup had tried not to go into much detail, but he felt that someone needed to know where he would be for the next couple weeks. Eret had been curious about why the Duke of Berkshire would suddenly invite a stranger to come stay at his home, but Hiccup had been as vague as possible. He didn’t want to go into the whole tale, especially as it seemed quite preposterous to think that this Duke of Berkshire might be his father. 

No, it had to be just a string of unusual coincidences. Hiccup refused to consider any other possibility. He had had his heart broken too many times in the past. Throughout his childhood he had longed for a family of his own, either his blood kin coming back to claim him or else to be adopted by loving parents. But neither had ever happened. Other children had sometimes been adopted, but no one had ever wanted a short, skinny, weird kid with a bad leg. As for his blood family, they might as well have vanished into thin air. 

Well, so be it. He was eighteen now, and wealthy in his own right. He was perfectly able to take care of himself and he no longer needed a family, other than Toothless. This whole situation was ridiculous. He probably shouldn’t have agreed to it. Both he and Stoick Vastley were going to be disappointed if they got their hearts set on being father and son. 

Things like that just didn’t work out in the real world.

Well, Hiccup supposed that it was too late to back out now, but he would have to be careful not to let himself get caught up in a fairytale. He was just on a brief visit, after all. He would meet this Duke of Berkshire and try to enjoy a stay in the countryside. Then, after the DNA test confirmed his suspicions, he would return to his normal life in London. 

Stoick Vastley…

The image of the ginger-haired man flashed through Hiccup’s mind. Once he had prepared for the trip, Hiccup had tried to settle back down to editing his book, but it had been impossible for him to concentrate on that. So finally he had given up and spent the evening looking for information about the Duke of Berkshire.

There was quite a bit on the internet about the Duke, though not much of it was personal. Stoick Vastley seemed to like his privacy too. The Wikipedia article had a photographed portrait of him dated several years earlier. Stoick had been wearing an ivory shirt, a beige and brown patterned vest, a dark green sport coat, beige trousers, and loafers. He had been outside, standing by a brick wall covered with ivy, and flanked by two tall, wiry-coated gray dogs. Hiccup had stared at the portrait for a long time, wondering if it were just possible….

But no, it couldn’t be, and Hiccup had forced his mind away from that line of thinking.

Stoick had flame-red hair, a square face, and green eyes. Hiccup had noted that, but reminded himself that green eyes were more common in the British Isles than elsewhere. He also couldn’t help but feel a little thrill at seeing the Vastley coat of arms--a golden dragon emblazoned on a red shield. It really was ironic how dragons kept popping up in his life. 

Most of the articles had been about Stoick Vastley’s business dealings. Gobber had not been exaggerating when he had stated that the Duke was one of the wealthiest men in Europe. Hiccup had learned that, besides Lambourn Hall in Berkshire, Stoick owned prime real estate in London, as well as some land in the Scottish Highlands and a luxury resort in the British Virgin Islands. He had invested money in financial, pharmaceutical, and technological companies, and in his youth, had raced sailing yachts. 

Stoick was also a generous philanthropist. He donated large sums to a variety of worthy causes, from building infrastructure in developing countries to medical research and improving schools in underprivileged areas. Hiccup had to smile when he read that Stoick also supported several animal rescue groups.

But of course, it was the troubled past that Hiccup was most interested in, and he had searched for any information on the fire that had (supposedly) killed little Hamish Vastley and his nanny. There was surprisingly little. Oh, there had been old articles in both the major and local newspapers that Hiccup had found archived on the internet, but they all covered the same information. 

One unexpected thing he had learned was that the fire had not occurred at Lambourn Hall itself, but at the smaller dower house where the family had been living while the Hall underwent renovations. Apparently Stoick and Valka had gone out for the evening and had returned to find firefighters desperately trying to put out the blazing inferno. But it had been too late to save the baby or the nanny. According to the papers, she had been a fifty-seven year old woman named Anne Bailey with no family. The fire was blamed on faulty wiring. 

Hiccup had also tried to find information on Valka Vastley, the woman who might possibly have been his mother. But the only picture he could find of her was one taken from a distance, at the memorial service with a grey stone church in the background. She wore a dark dress with a black hat tilted low to partially cover her face and she seemed to be leaning against Stoick, who stood close with a protective arm around her. Several other people were gathered near to them. Hiccup had recognized Gobber, on Stoick’s other side with his head and shoulders bowed, and he had supposed the other people were relatives or friends. It was difficult to see what Valka had really looked like, and Hiccup had felt vaguely guilty looking at the photograph, intruding on this family’s terrible grief, long ago as it was.

His phone roared, pulling Hiccup back to the present moment. Toothless had been curled up on the sofa, but at the sound of the phone, he barked and raised his head sharply.

“It’s all right, Toothless,” Hiccup reassured him before answering the phone. “Hello?”

“Mr. Haddock, your friend has arrived,” Fred told him.

“Thanks, Fred. We’ll be right down.” 

Hiccup switched off his phone and went to attach the lead to Toothless’ collar. At the door, he paused to take one more look around at his flat. 

“We’ll be back in a couple weeks.”

Then he looked down at the shaggy black dog. “Well, here we go, bud.”

It had taken Hiccup some time to decide what to wear, and he had been partially annoyed, partially amused at himself for caring so much. He didn’t normally spend a lot of time worrying over his clothes. But what did one wear when meeting a possible father for the first time? Especially if that father happened to be the Duke of Berkshire?

Was a coat and tie too formal? They were just going to be at Stoick’s home, after all. But then jeans seemed a little casual for a first meeting. Hiccup had settled on a dark blue Oxford shirt, khaki trousers, and loafers. When he stepped into the townhouse foyer, he was pleased to note that Gobber was dressed in similar fashion—wearing a striped shirt, navy sweater-vest, and grey trousers.

“Good morning, lad. Ready to go?” Gobber greeted him cheerfully. “And a good morning to you, too,” he added with a laugh as Toothless pushed his head at Gobber’s hand and wagged his tail.

“Yes, I think we’re ready,” Hiccup answered, looking about for his luggage.

“Oh, they’ve already taken your bags to the car,” Gobber told him. “I’m parked out there.” He gestured vaguely towards the door.

Hiccup nodded, said goodbye to Fred as the doorman held the front door for them, and followed Gobber to a sleek, silver Rolls Royce. Toothless jumped into the back while Gobber settled himself behind the wheel and Hiccup took the passenger’s seat.

“Old Bucket Bly is officially my chauffer, but I enjoy driving myself around so he mostly tends to the garden and does handiwork around the house,” Gobber remarked as they pulled away and drove down Park Lane. Toothless at first bounced from one side of the car to the other, eagerly looking out the windows, but he soon settled down and stretched out to spend the rest of the trip dozing. 

“Do you live here in London?” Hiccup asked politely. 

Gobber shook his head. “No, I live in Eastbury, in West Berkshire. There are several little villages in the area. Lambourn is the biggest, though it’s not very big. I come into the city for business several days each week. Sometimes I commute; sometimes I stay at the Vastley Arms. That’s a hotel your dad owns here in Mayfair. Once upon a time it was the family’s London home, but your grandparents turned it into a hotel. There’s still a private family wing though, and I have a suite there for when I need to stay overnight. I stayed there last night, actually.” 

“You must be a really close friend,” Hiccup commented, and then could have kicked himself for sounding stupid. It was quite obvious, and Gobber had said yesterday that he was good friends with Stoick. 

But Gobber only nodded and said, “We’re like brothers.”

It wasn’t long before they left the city behind and Hiccup watched closely as the landscape changed from crowded streets to the suburbs to gently sloping hills dotted with trees. The countryside blazed with glorious autumn colours, with brick and stone houses scattered about, and hedgerows separating patchwork fields. 

Hiccup was just thinking how quietly beautiful it was when Gobber spoke again.

“It’s like a picture postcard, isn’t it?”

Hiccup turned to him. “Yes. I’ve been thinking about buying a place out in the country. I think Toothless would really like having his own space to run about and it might be a nice change from the city.”

“The city has its attractions, for sure,” Gobber agreed. “But I like living somewhere a bit more peaceful. I guess you’ve always lived in London?”

“Yes, you know I grew up at the Forge Street Children’s Home. I had never left the city at all until a few months ago, when my books started becoming popular. I’ve traveled a little since then, but it’s always for business, you know, for book signings and things. There’s not much time for exploring or sight-seeing.”

“You never got out of the city at all?”

Hiccup shook his head. “No, there are some programs for foster kids to go to summer camp out in the country, but you know how it is. There’s never enough money for all the kids to go, and I was never one of the ones chosen.” He hesitated before adding, “That’s one thing I give money to now, to programs that help foster kids so more of them will have opportunities like that.” 

He hoped that he didn’t sound as if he were bragging, but Gobber nodded. “That’s good of you. It’s the kind of thing your dad does too.”

“Gobber, I really don’t think that he’s my dad.”

Gobber just smiled. “I do.” 

They were quiet again for a while before Hiccup admitted, “I looked up some things last night. I couldn’t help being curious. They were staying at the dower house when the fire happened, right?”

“The roof at Lambourn Hall needed repairs,” Gobber explained. “These historic houses are always needing maintenance, you know. They were welcome to stay with me in Eastbury and Valka’s brother offered them a place too, but Stoick and Valka liked the dower house, and they thought since they had a young baby, it would be easier for everyone if they were on their own.”

Gobber shook his head and said heavily, “I should have insisted they stay with me. I’ve wished it a million times since. But several things went wrong that night. We’d gone over to the Jorgensons’ for dinner. Valka was a Jorgenson before she married, and her brother Spitelout and his family live in the area, too. It was the first time since you were born that your parents had been out, and they had planned to take you with them. Spite and his wife Helen had a baby too, just a few months older than you were.”

He glanced over at Hiccup. “I guess Scott would be your cousin then. But anyway, Stoick and Valka were going to bring you along, but you caught a cold and so they decided it would be best not to take you out in the night air. Then they were going to stay home with you, but Spite and Helen and I all talked them into coming. We thought it would do them good to get out for a little while, and the nanny was very experienced so you were in good hands. But then, just as we were finishing dessert, we got the call about the fire.”

“I don’t know that any of us have ever really gotten over it,” Gobber sighed. “But like I’ve told your dad, you can go insane if you dwell on all the things that might have been. Sometimes things happen and you just have to carry on as best you can.”

After a moment, Hiccup asked, “And the fire started because of bad wiring?”

“It must have,” Gobber said slowly. “It still seems off to me, because your dad’s always been one to keep things in good shape. But the fire captain and the investigators agreed that it must have been the wiring.”

Hiccup hesitated, but then asked, “Do you think it could have been arson?”

Gobber shrugged. “The thought has crossed my mind, but no, I really don’t. I mean, who in the world would do such a thing?”

“Rich and powerful people sometimes have enemies,” Hiccup pointed out.

“True,” Gobber agreed. “And I know that there were those who didn’t agree with all of Stoick’s business decisions, but I still can’t see any of them going so far as to attack his family.”

“Maybe they didn’t mean to. If the family normally lived at Lambourn Hall, then they might not have known anyone was in the dower house,” Hiccup said.

“But if the family had been at Lambourn Hall like normal, why would anyone burn the dower house anyway? If an enemy was targeting Stoick, then it seems like they would have known the family was there or they would have burned the Hall instead.” 

Hiccup considered another angle. “Is there anyone who profited from Hamish’s death? Maybe someone didn’t want him to inherit the estate?”

Gobber shook his head. “No. No one stood to inherit besides Hamish. You see, Stoick can do whatever he wishes with the fortune he’s made on his own, through business. But the Duke of Berkshire title and the Lambourn estate are entailed.”

“What does that mean?” Hiccup wanted to know.

“Entailment means that there are laws about who can inherit, it isn’t just up to Stoick to choose. The law says that the title and estate can only be inherited by a male-line descendant. Normally that’s the first-born son. If there isn’t a son, then it goes to the Duke’s brother or uncle or nephew, whoever the next closest male relative is, but they would have to be related through the paternal side of the family.” 

“The Jorgensons are Valka’s family, so they won’t inherit from Stoick,” Gobber went on. “He does have some Scottish relatives—they live in the Highlands—but they’re related through Stoick’s mum, so again, they’re not eligible to inherit the dukedom. If Stoick had a brother, or another male relative from his father’s side, then that person could inherit. But there is no other living Vastley.”

Hiccup frowned. “That law is kind of discriminatory, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Gobber agreed. “But most of the aristocratic inheritance laws are similar. There are a few titles that can be inherited by women, but not many. And younger children are completely out of luck, unless something happens to the elder one.”

He considered. “Well, not really out of luck. They’re still born to privileged families, well-educated, and may inherit some of their parents’ personal fortune. But most of the money goes with the title and the estate. It has to, or the heir wouldn’t be able to keep the place going.”

“It still doesn’t seem very fair,” Hiccup said.

“There’s been some talk about changing the inheritance laws over the past few years, but so far it hasn’t to led to anything,” Gobber remarked. “But to get back to your original point, there’s no one else who would have inherited Stoick’s title and estate. So there’s no one who would have had a motive to kill little Hamish.”

“So what happens if there is no heir?” 

“The title reverts back to the Crown-The Royal Family. But there is an heir,” Gobber said calmly. “I’m sure—well, ninety-nine percent sure—that you’re Hamish.”

Hiccup immediately shook his head. “I wouldn’t bet on that.”

“But there’s so much evidence,” Gobber protested. “It can’t just be coincidence.”

Hiccup sighed. “I don’t know. It is unusual, but I just can’t believe that I’m Stoick Vastley’s son. It’s too far-fetched.”

Gobber shrugged. “No more than anything else that’s happened. But I suppose the DNA test will prove it.”

He slowed the car as they approached a crossroads with signs indicating the upcoming villages of Eastbury and Lambourn. Gobber turned right and looked over to Hiccup with a reassuring smile.

“You can get to the Hall by going through Eastbury too, but this road’s quicker. We’re almost there now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Notes: Thank you for reading and I love reviews! This chapter ended up being a lot of discussion between Hiccup and Gobber, but I hope you enjoyed reading it anyway. I like long, detailed stories and some of this information will be important later. Apologies for not having Hiccup and Stoick meet yet, but that is coming up in Chapter Three.
> 
> British Terms:
> 
> Dower House—a moderately large house that can be used by the widow of the previous owner of the estate. The widow is usually the mother of the current owner, and is called a dowager. For example, if Valka and Stoick’s mother were both living in this story, Valka would be the Duchess of Berkshire and Stoick’s mother would be the Dowager Duchess. The Dowager usually moves out of the main home, giving it to the heir and his family once he inherits, and moves to the smaller (though still comfortable) dower house.


	4. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

The Rolls Royce traveled slowly along the narrow winding road. It was only a few moments before Gobber turned again, to drive through open wrought-iron gates set into an impressive stone archway that was flanked by identical stone gatehouses.

“Does anyone live there, in those houses?” Hiccup asked, for the gatehouses looked large enough to live in.

“Well, no one actually lives there,” Gobber answered. “But the house on the right is used by the security guards. There’s a kitchen and sitting rooms where they can have meals and relax on their break time, and the electronics room where the gatekeeper controls the gates and they can view footage from the cameras set up around the estate. The house on the left is used for storage these days.” 

They drove for another mile or so, along a gravel lane with tall sheltering oak trees on each side. Then the car rounded a turn into an open area and Hiccup caught his breath at his first look at Lambourn Hall.

He had expected a large and grand house, but this was more like a castle fit for a king. The Hall was an enormous place, constructed of warm honey-coloured Bath stone, three stories high with a great four-story tower in the center, its sharp spires reaching for the sky. 

“Impressive, isn’t it?” Gobber spoke quietly.

Hiccup could only nod.

The lane led up to the Hall, past a wide expanse of lawn and through gateposts to a paved terrace. Gobber came to a stop near the square porte-cochere at the Hall’s entrance and he and Hiccup climbed out. As soon as the car came to a halt, Toothless jumped to his feet and barked excitedly.

Hiccup opened the car’s back door an inch and quickly clipped Toothless’ lead back on before letting him out. “It’s okay, bud. Calm down.”

Gobber glanced over. “Is he good with other dogs?”

Hiccup nodded. “Yes, he loves other dogs. He’s always wanting to play.”

“Good. Skully and Thor are friendly, too, so they should get along all right.”

“Skully and Thor?”

But Gobber was looking around and didn’t hear. “Where is Stoick? He knew we were due to arrive now.”

“Hoy there!”

Hiccup and Gobber turned to see Stoick Vastley striding towards them from the right side lawn. He wore a tan shirt, brown trousers tucked into olive-green Wellington boots, and a brown tweed coat. The two tall, brownish-grey dogs from the portrait loped along easily ahead of him. They froze for an instant when they noticed the little group by the porte-cochere, and then started barking furiously.

Of course Toothless barked back and pulled at his lead.

“Toothless, no!” Hiccup gave the lead a tug. “Quiet!”

At the same time, Stoick clapped his hands. “Skully, Thor, quiet! To heel!”

His two dogs immediately hushed and fell back to walk alongside him. Toothless gave one last yip and then he too settled down somewhat, though he stood close at Hiccup’s side, watching intently as this stranger and his dogs approached.

Stoick Vastley was tall, lean, and muscular, but as he came closer, they could see that his red hair was mussed; there was a streak of dirt on his forehead; and the left sleeve of his coat was torn. 

“What happened to you then?” Gobber asked.

Stoick shook his head. “Just a little mishap at the abbey ruins.”

His voice was calm, but Hiccup thought his eyes looked troubled. Then Stoick turned to him.

“So you’re Hiccup Haddock.” It was a statement rather than a question. Stoick studied him with cool appraisal. 

Hiccup lifted his chin and forced himself to meet Stoick’s gaze unflinchingly. He had seen similar judgmental expressions all his life. Well, he was no longer a poor little nobody from the Children’s Home, dressed in hand-me-downs and ugly orthopedic shoes; no longer the weak, shrimpy kid the others bullied—although he couldn’t help but feel dwarfed by Gobber and Stoick. 

Maybe he wasn’t the kind of son that Stoick Vastley would have chosen, but he was smart and successful and he had managed it on his own, against all the odds. He had no reason to feel inferior.

After a moment, Stoick held out his hand and said, rather stiffly, “Welcome to Lambourn Hall.”  
Hiccup started to shake hands, then realized that he was holding Toothless’ lead and had to switch it to his other hand. Feeling very awkward, he gripped Stoick’s large hand and shook it. “Thank you.”

He hesitated. Should he call Stoick ‘sir’? But before he could decide, Stoick let go and gestured towards his dogs. “My dogs, Skullcrusher and Thornado.”

Hiccup did smile then. He bent slightly to scratch behind Toothless’ ears. “And this is Toothless.”

Stoick looked down at the shaggy black dog, who was now panting so that his teeth were clearly visible. “Toothless? That seems like an odd name.”

Hiccup gave him a bland look and drawled, “Yes, I should have given him a normal name like ‘Skullcrusher’ or ‘Thornado’.”

Instantly, he could have kicked himself. Other people had commented on Toothless’ name before and it hadn’t bothered him. Why was he being so defensive with Stoick Vastley? He had just arrived and already they were off to a bad start. He couldn’t afford to get his hopes up—they certainly weren’t father and son—but that didn’t mean he had to be rude and obnoxious. It wasn’t like him, or at least Hiccup hoped that he wasn’t normally that way. 

He started to apologize, but Stoick surprised him by suddenly laughing. 

“Well, you’ve certainly got a sharp wit. I suppose I should expect that from a famous author. But you have a point. My own dogs have unusual names, too.”

Hiccup smiled wryly. “When I found Toothless, he had some dental issues and had to have a couple of his back teeth removed. I started calling him ‘Toothless’ as a joke, but then it just stuck.”

Hiccup hesitated again, then added quietly, “I shouldn’t have been rude to you, sir. I’m sorry.”

Stoick nodded, but before he could say anything else, Gobber interrupted.

“Well, now that we’re all getting along, what happened at the abbey ruins?”

“One of the walls collapsed, almost on top of me,” Stoick replied. He looked over at Hiccup and explained, “There was once an abbey here, out near the lake. When Henry VIII broke with the Catholic Church in the 1500s, he disbanded it, and the abbey fell into ruins. We’ve tried to preserve what’s left, but we’ve had so much rain lately that I was concerned about the ground getting too soft. We have to shore up the walls every so often. Bob and I had talked about it earlier, so when I was out with the dogs this morning I decided to walk by and check it out.”

Stoick frowned, looking unhappy. “Apparently I was too late. I was looking at the south wall and then it just came down.”

“You were lucky not to get hurt,” Gobber said.

“You know my head is harder than any rock,” Stoick joked, but then he agreed. “But I was lucky not to get a nasty knock. I’ve got the boys to thank for that.” He patted each of his dogs on the head. “They started growling and carrying on so that I stepped away to see what was bothering them. That was when the wall collapsed, just where I’d been standing.”

“What was bothering them?” Gobber asked.

Stoick shrugged, “A flock of geese out on the lake, as far as I could tell.”

“Anyway, that’s why I’m late getting back up here. I called Bob Ingerman to come out and put up barricades. We don’t want anyone else wandering around there if the ruins are that unstable.”

Hiccup wondered who would be wandering around on a private estate, but he didn’t want to ask. He must have looked curious though, for Stoick explained.

“There are a couple hundred workers here during the day. The whole estate is over 20,000 acres. We farm oats and barley. I have a stable of race horses. There’s the gamekeeper and her assistants. The security guards. And the estate manager, Bob Ingerman, lives on the property with his family. So while it’s not likely, it is possible that someone could go out to the ruins.” 

“In fact, I’m going to head back out there,” Stoick continued. “I want to be sure that Bob got my message and that someone’s putting up those barricades. The two of you can go on inside, if you want. Lunch should be ready shortly.” 

“Why don’t we all go?” Gobber suggested. “Hiccup could see the ruins and a little bit of the estate.”

Stoick paused, but then nodded curtly. “If you want.”

He glanced down at their feet. “You’re going to need Wellies though. You’ll ruin your good shoes out there.”

Stoick slipped a phone from his pocket and started to tap a button, but as if on cue, a man opened the Hall’s double entrance doors and came towards them. He was thin, with iron-grey hair and a long face, and wore a dark suit. 

Stoick gestured towards him and told Hiccup tersely, “The butler, Mulch.”

As Mulch approached, Stoick told him, “Ah, Mulch, please see that Mr. Haddock’s luggage is taken to the Highlands room and bring out some boots for him and Gobber.”

The butler bowed sharply. “Right away, Lord Vastley.” Gobber and Hiccup told him their shoe sizes and Mulch quickly disappeared, returning a moment later with two pairs of waterproof boots.

“Stoick keeps several extra pairs of boots in different sizes for guests,” Gobber explained. “You’d be surprised how many people forget to bring Wellies.”

“You’ve hardly got room to talk, Gobber,” Stoick responded. “You’re always forgetting your boots, and you live out here so you should know better.”

Gobber just laughed and told Hiccup. “We’ll leave our shoes in my car and fetch them when we get back.” 

Hiccup nodded, but he ducked his head to hide his concern as he changed shoes. He actually had his own pair of Wellington boots with a built-in lift--and he had remembered to pack them too--but they were buried at the bottom of one of his suitcases and he was embarrassed to ask Stoick and Gobber to wait while he rummaged around looking for them.  
Well, he could manage walking in regular shoes for a while if he had to. He just had to walk halfway on tiptoe with his left foot. It was awkward, but it was better than mentioning his leg condition and holding everyone up. 

A moment later, they started out. Stoick led the way across the wide lawn and then down a path through the woods. He and Gobber strode along easily while Hiccup forced himself to keep up, though he had to admit that part of the difficulty was because Toothless kept pulling at the lead, trying to catch up to Skullcrusher and Thornado who were trotting ahead.

“You can let him off-lead,” Stoick said after a few minutes. “Unless you think he might run off?”

“No, he just wants to catch up to your dogs. He’ll stay with them, if you think they’ll be all right together?” Hiccup responded.

Stoick nodded. “They’ll be fine.”

So Hiccup unclipped the lead. Toothless licked his hand in thanks, and happily rushed over to the larger dogs. The three of them touched noses, wagged their tails, and bounced down the trail, the best of friends.

If only getting along with people could be so easy, Hiccup thought, a little wistfully.

He realized that Stoick and Gobber were waiting, so he hurriedly straightened and resumed walking. The ground was even and the path was well-maintained. But it was a little muddy, which made walking even more tiring for Hiccup, and walking with his foot arched quickly became uncomfortable. But he was determined not to limp and draw attention to his condition. So he gritted his teeth and kept on, trying to listen as the men told him about the Lambourn Hall estate.

Well, truthfully, Gobber was doing most of the talking. “You’ll have to take Hiccup over to the racing stables, Stoick.” He looked over to Hiccup. “Whether you’ve got the horse bug or not, it’s exciting to see them run. Too bad you’ve just missed the Champions Day meet so the season’s over, but you can still see them exercise and train. And if you’ve a mind to try it, Stoick’s got several nice riding horses. They were too slow and quiet-tempered to make good racehorses, but they’re fine for just hacking around.” 

Hiccup nodded politely, although he wasn’t sure if he wanted to try horseback riding or not. Mostly he was just hoping that they reached those blasted ruins soon. It seemed that they had walked a great distance already. 

Then, finally, they stepped from the trees to a wide field that sloped gently down to a lake. The abbey ruins lay directly ahead of them and despite the ache in his foot and leg, Hiccup was transfixed by its almost eerie beauty. The abbey had been constructed of the same light stone as the Hall. Two perpendicular walls still stood, with empty arched doorways and mullioned windows. A set of steps led from one doorway to an open area where a single lonely column remained, and beyond that, the pile of stones that must have once been the south wall.

Some wooden barricades had been set up around the perimeter of the ruins, and a heavyset man in dark work clothes was kneeling on the ground by one of the walls, carefully studying its base. Tufts of blond hair stuck out from under his blue hard hat and when he stood and came over to them, Hiccup could see that he had a round, friendly face and light eyes.

“Bob, this is…Hiccup Haddock. He’ll be staying here for a couple weeks,” Stoick introduced them. “This is Bob Ingerman, the estate manager.”

Bob nodded to Hiccup. “Ah, you’re the author of those Dragon books, aren’t you? My family are big fans of yours. You know how to tell a good story.”

“Thank you,” Hiccup mumbled.

But Bob Ingerman had already turned to Stoick. “I’m not sure why that wall collapsed, sir. The ground’s a bit soft but not dangerously so, I wouldn’t have thought.”

“Well, it is almost eight hundred years old,” Stoick sighed. “I hate that we lost that wall though.”

“The rest of it seems secure,” Bob told him. “But Fishlegs is bringing some more barricades and danger signs. We’ll put those up to keep people away and I’ve got a team coming out tomorrow. We’ll make sure it’s all stable.” 

The men talked for a few minutes, but Hiccup didn’t pay attention to them. It had occurred to him that the abbey ruins would be an interesting setting for a book, so he was looking around and trying to remember details. As he did so, he noticed a little green plastic box lying on the grass some distance from the fallen wall.

“Um, sir,” He tried to get Stoick’s attention. “Something’s over there.”

Gobber walked over and picked it up. “A box of breath mints. Is it yours, Stoick?”

Stoick shook his head, but then Bob Ingerman spoke.

“Fishlegs and his friends had a picnic out here the other day. I bet one of them dropped it.”

Gobber handed the box to him. “Well, you can give it back to them. Maybe--”

He was interrupted by Stoick suddenly giving a sharp whistle and calling to Skullcrusher and Thornado. The dogs had been romping around and they had gone down to the lake’s edge. At Stoick’s call, his two dogs came running back and Toothless came too, racing after his new friends.

“We don’t want the dogs going in the lake,” Stoick explained. “It’s dangerous for swimming. There’s a sharp drop-off near the shoreline and the water’s cold and deep.”

He looked at Bob Ingerman. “Well, it looks like you’ve got everything under control here so we’ll head back to the Hall. But call if there are any problems.” 

Stoick, Gobber, and Hiccup started back towards the forest, but after just a few steps, a sharp pain stabbed through Hiccup’s left foot. It caught him unaware and he couldn’t keep from stumbling.

“Oh!”

Stoick and Gobber turned back.

“What’s wrong?” Stoick demanded.

Hiccup shook his head. “It’s nothing, just a cramp in my foot. I’m fine.”

He tried to step forward again, but the pain was severe and he almost fell, except that in a desperate attempt to stay upright, he grabbed onto Stoick’s arm.

Gobber suddenly realized the problem. “Your leg! There’s no lift in those boots. Why didn’t you say something, lad?”

At that moment, Hiccup would have been grateful if the earth had opened up and swallowed him. He mumbled something indecipherable, then realized that he was still holding on to Stoick’s arm and immediately let go. 

Not wanting to look up and see annoyance or pity on the man’s face, he kept his head down. “Sorry, sir. I’m fine, really.” 

Toothless had come running to Hiccup’s side and now he whined softly in concern. Hiccup scratched behind his ears, to comfort himself as much as his dog.

It was Gobber who waved the apology away. “Not your fault. We should have remembered. But I didn’t even think about it.”

“Well, obviously you can’t walk back,” Stoick remarked. “We’ll have to send for one of the UTVs.”

“Fishlegs has one,” Bob called. “He should be here any minute now.”

Sure enough, they heard the sound of an engine, and then a bright yellow utility vehicle came from the opposite side of the woods and drove to them. A young man about Hiccup’s age climbed out from the driver’s seat. He was a younger version of Bob Ingerman, with the same stocky build, round face, and fair hair, and he too wore a plain work shirt and trousers.

“Here are the rest of the barricades, Dad. “Oh, hi, Lord Vastley, Mr. Bell.” 

Then he saw Hiccup and caught his breath. “You’re Hiccup Haddock! You write the Dragon Quartet books! Is Sapphire going to be able to fly again? Jake and Avi are going to patch things up, aren’t they? And what’s the deal with that ancient treasure map?”

Hiccup blinked at him. People sometimes recognized him in London and asked questions about his books, but he hadn’t really expected that to happen out here. And he was already feeling rattled and embarrassed about causing a fuss with his leg. “Um….”

He was saved from answering by Bob. “Don’t pester the boy, Fishlegs. They’re going back to the Hall and we’ve got work to do. Let’s get the barricades unloaded. They need to take the UTV back.” 

With Stoick and Gobber pitching in, the barricades were unloaded quickly. Hiccup wanted to help, but since he could barely walk without his foot cramping, he realized that he would just be in the way. So he stood to the side, patting Toothless and feeling completely mortified. 

A few minutes later, Gobber hustled him into the back seat of the UTV and insisted on Hiccup propping up his leg, despite Hiccup protesting that it wasn’t necessary. Stoick and Gobber took the front seats and the dogs managed to crowd on board too.

As Stoick took off driving back to Lambourn Hall, Hiccup sighed and closed his eyes. He hadn’t been here two hours, and he was already exhausted and discouraged. Coming here had been a mistake. He wasn’t Stoick Vastley’s son and the man didn’t even like him anyway.

Not that he could blame Stoick. Hiccup felt that he couldn’t have made a worse impression if he had tried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Notes: Several people have asked more about what Toothless looks like. He is a mixed-breed dog, but I haven’t really thought about which breeds. I imagine Toothless looking a bit like a black Australian Shepherd with light eyes and a long, plumy tail. Skullcrusher and Thornado are Scottish Deerhounds.
> 
> Lambourn Hall is based on the magnificent Englefield House, which is actually in Berkshire though I don’t believe it’s near Lambourn. Incidentally, Englefield House was the Xavier mansion in the movie ‘X-Men: First Class’.
> 
> Thank you so much for the kind reviews! I hope you’ll continue to read and enjoy!


	5. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Stoick pulled the UTV close to Gobber’s Rolls Royce and parked. The three dogs immediately hopped off and stood nearby, panting, while the three humans climbed out. Gobber turned to offer a hand to Hiccup, who accepted the help reluctantly, feeling embarrassed, but not wanting to be rude.

“Thanks, but I’m fine now, really,” he mumbled.

Gobber nodded. He opened his car door, took out their own pairs of loafers, and handed Hiccup’s over. “Well, these should be more comfortable than those boots.”

“Yes, thanks.” Hiccup didn’t think he had ever been happier to put his own shoes back on.

Mulch must have been keeping watch from one of the Hall’s tall mullioned windows because a moment later he came out to take the extra boots and to announce that lunch was ready. “Shall I set a place for Mr. Bell as well?”

Stoick looked over to Gobber. “Why don’t you stay for lunch, Gobber? There’s plenty of food.”

Hiccup hoped that Gobber would. Even though he had only met the man the day before, he already felt much more comfortable around him than the Duke. Gobber was friendly and easy-going, while Stoick…well, Stoick wasn’t exactly unfriendly, but Hiccup did feel that things with him were more forced and stilted.

But Gobber shook his head. “Thanks, but I better go home and check on Grump. Besides, the two of you don’t need me hanging around all the time. Perhaps you could come over for dinner tomorrow night?”

Stoick shook his head. “Spite and Helen have invited us for dinner tomorrow night. They wanted a chance to meet Hiccup too.”

“Well, maybe Sunday lunch after church then.” Gobber gave them both a cheery wave before sliding into the driver’s seat of his car. As the silver Rolls disappeared down the drive, Hiccup glanced over and noted that Stoick looked almost as disappointed and uncomfortable as Hiccup felt.

But then Stoick turned to him, and the Duke’s expression was so calm and impassive that Hiccup was sure he must have only imagined that look of dismay. 

“Would you like some aspirin or a compress for your foot?” 

Hiccup immediately shook his head. “No, thank you. I’m fine.” 

“Then I’ll show you to your room and you can wash up for lunch.” Stoick glanced over to the butler. “We’ll be along shortly, Mulch.”

Stoick led the way through the porte-cochere and the double entrance doors of heavy oak. They stepped into an enormous Great Hall, with portraits of Vastley ancestors lining the stone walls and a massive stone staircase with a carved balustrade set into an alcove to the right. To the left, a wide arched doorway led to a drawing room with pale blue walls, gleaming antique furniture, and a white marble fireplace surround that reached to the ceiling. 

Stoick turned towards the staircase while Mulch continued on towards the back of the manor house. Skullcrusher and Thornado followed Mulch. Toothless whined softly as he looked at Hiccup, at the other dogs, and then back to Hiccup.

“Mulch is getting them some water and a bite to eat,” Stoick explained. “He can get something for Toothless as well, if you want.”

Hiccup nodded. “It’s all right, bud,” he told Toothless. “You can go with them.” 

Toothless barked and then trotted after Mulch and the dogs.

As they climbed the stairs and walked down another wide hallway, Stoick cleared his throat. “The house was built in the 1550s, although it’s been through several renovations since. Perhaps the biggest was in the early twentieth century when indoor plumbing and electricity were put in.” 

Hiccup wasn’t sure exactly what to say. “I guess it’s always been in your family?”

Stoick nodded. “Vastleys were the Earls of Berkshire since the days of William the Conqueror. Henry VIII elevated the title to a dukedom. He seized much of the surrounding land, making the estate much larger than it had been, and granted it all to Edward Stoick Vastley, who became the first Duke of Berkshire. Vastley was a clever and ambitious man, perhaps not the strongest moral character, but he was wily enough to stay in Henry’s good graces, which was no easy task. His portrait hangs in the library. I can show it to you later.”

They had walked to the end of the hall and turned a corner. Stoick stopped and opened a doorway. “This is the Highlands Room. You’ll be staying here, if it’s satisfactory.”

They stepped into a spacious sitting room with a couple of overstuffed navy-blue armchairs sitting before a fireplace with a carved stone mantel. It was a corner room, with pale walls and windows overlooking the gardens behind the Hall and the fields and woods to the right. Window seats were built into the thick walls, and navy-blue and green tartan silk drapes fell to the floor. A faded beige, blue, and green print rug covered much of the hardwood floor and a generous-sized bookcase and desk, made of gleaming mahogany wood, were set by the walls. 

A wide doorway led to the bedroom where a huge four-poster bed was covered with a tartan comforter and a mountain of pillows. There was a night table on the right side of the bed and a large wardrobe stood against an inside wall. Another tall window took up much of the space on the opposite wall and a corner door led to a bath. Hiccup’s suitcases stood neatly at the foot of the bed.

Hiccup’s flat in the London townhouse was very nice, but this room was even more luxurious. 

“Yes, this is great,” Hiccup said softly. “Thank you.”

Stoick nodded. “This wing of the house was for the family. My rooms are directly across the hall.” 

He paused and Hiccup had the impression that Stoick had started to say something else. But then he only said, “Well, I’ll let you wash up and be back in a moment to show you the family dining room.”

He disappeared through his own door on the opposite side of the corridor. Hiccup quickly washed his hands and made sure his blue shirt was neatly tucked in. Then he wandered back through his rooms to the bookcase and idly looked at the leather-bound novels on its shelves. Most of them seemed to be classic children’s literature, such as "Treasure Island", "The Swiss Family Robinson", and "Oliver Twist".

Hiccup paused and looked around with sudden awareness. This room was in the family wing, directly across from Stoick, with books that a young boy might have liked.

“This was supposed to be Hamish’s room,” he murmured, and in spite of himself, he felt moved. Stoick might not like or accept him, but perhaps deep down, the Duke did harbour some hope that Hiccup might be his son.

Then Hiccup sighed. Then it would just be more disappointing for them both when the DNA test confirmed that they weren’t related. They just couldn’t be. Hiccup would not let himself believe otherwise.

There was the sound of a knock and Hiccup looked around to see Stoick standing in the open doorway. He had washed the streak of dirt from his forehead, combed his hair, and put on a different, darker brown sport coat. “Are you ready for lunch?”

The family dining room was further down the hall from the bedrooms. Pale green damask wallpaper rose above low mahogany paneling and dark green drapes flanked the window. Mulch was standing at the wall, taking a platter of club and steak sandwiches from a dumbwaiter in the wall and setting it down on a heavy square table in the center of the room. He closed the dumbwaiter door and Hiccup noted that, from the outside, it was a landscape painting of the lake and abbey ruins set in a gilt frame.

Stoick noticed his surprised look and explained. “The dumbwaiter is useful for sending food and plates back and forth from here to the kitchen, but my grandmother didn’t care for the dumbwaiter door. She thought it was ugly and plain, so she had that painting fixed up as a cover for it.”

“That’s kind of cool,” Hiccup said.

Stoick smiled. “Are you kids still saying that?”

“Actually, I don’t know. I don’t have a lot of friends my age, or any age really,” Hiccup admitted. “Except for Toothless.”

They seated themselves at the table and Stoick gestured for Hiccup to take sandwiches from the platter. Mulch set out glasses of ice water, gave a quick bow, and left them alone. 

“I suppose it could be lonely growing up in your Children’s Home,” Stoick said quietly. 

Hiccup nodded, but then forced himself to speak more briskly. “Yes, but that’s why I started writing my books and that’s turned out well for me. So I can’t complain.”

“I’m afraid I must be the only person who hasn’t read them,” Stoick commented. “I thought they were children’s books, but Gobber tells me that they’re very popular with people of all ages.”

Hiccup swallowed his bite of sandwich before answering. “Yes, well, the main characters are only twelve when the series begins, so the books were originally marketed for kids, but they’ve become popular with everyone.”

“And how exactly did you come up with ideas for writing them?”

Stoick seemed genuinely interested, though Hiccup had to wonder if he were just trying to keep up the conversation, but Hiccup had answered questions about his books so often that it was a familiar topic for him. He spoke easily about how he had decided to try writing down his imaginary stories and then to try having them published, how they had become an amazing whirlwind success.

“Has it been hard to adjust to, becoming so famous and successful overnight?” Stoick asked.

“Sometimes,” Hiccup admitted. “But I’m incredibly lucky, so it feels ungrateful to complain about anything.”

“Yes,” Stoick agreed. “But everyone has trials. All the wealth and material goods in the world can’t shield you from that.”

A shadow passed over his face for an instant. But then he looked at Hiccup with quiet intensity. “You were found on a police station doorstep?” 

Hiccup hesitated. He did not like to discuss his past, especially being abandoned as a baby. But he thought that Stoick might be the one person who had some right, even a need, to know, so he nodded. 

“On the Snow Hill branch of the London Metropolitan Police. But I’m afraid there really isn’t much to tell. I was wrapped in a blue blanket in a wicker basket. It was very early on a Wednesday morning, June first. A woman passing by noticed the basket sitting in the shadows on the top step and she went to check it out. Apparently I was asleep and not making any noise. When she saw me, she picked up the basket and took it inside the police station. But there was no note or anything that might have identified me. The police called a social worker who took me to a hospital, and apparently I was healthy even though I was pretty small. Then the social worker took me to the Forge Street Children’s Home.” 

“I wonder if the woman who found the basket had anything to do with leaving you there?” Stoick wondered. 

“Well, the police thought that too, so they questioned her, but it doesn’t seem like it. She was on her way to work; she walked to the bus stop near the police station every day, and she hadn’t had a baby. All her family and friends were witnesses to that. So she just happened to be the person who found me and took me inside.”

“And you don’t know anything about your family or how you ended up there,” Stoick mused. “That must be very difficult.” 

‘Difficult’ didn’t begin to describe the aching emptiness that Hiccup lived with, but he never admitted that vulnerability to anyone, so he only shrugged. 

“Well, of course I would like to know, but I’ve had to accept it and move on.”

“That’s all you can do sometimes,” Stoick agreed.

As they were finishing the meal, the three dogs came in. Toothless rushed to Hiccup’s side and pushed at his hand so that Hiccup would scratch behind his ears. Skullcrusher and Thornado were more sedate, going to sit patiently by Stoick’s chair.

The Duke smiled. “Did you fellows enjoy your lunch?” 

Skullcrusher and Thornado politely wagged their tails, but Toothless bounced over to Stoick, wanting to be petted from him too. Hiccup started to remonstrate, but Stoick just smiled and patted the shaggy black dog. 

“So how did you find Toothless?”

“Oh, one day a couple months ago, I had gone for a walk in Hyde Park and a thunderstorm came up all of a sudden. So I was hurrying back to my flat and I saw Toothless. He was trying to find some shelter, and I could tell he was really skinny and his fur was matted. Well, I couldn’t stand to just leave him, and luckily he was friendly and he let me bring home. I got a vet appointment that afternoon. It turned out that he didn’t have a microchip, and the vet thought he’d been on his own for a long time. He was half-starved and had the matted fur, and a couple bad teeth like I told you about. So I kept him, and he’s been the best thing that ever happened to me,” Hiccup told him.

“Even more than your books being successful?” Stoick questioned.

Hiccup immediately nodded. “Oh yeah. If I didn’t have my books, I’d still find something else to do. But Toothless is worth more than anything in the world to me.”

“I have a cousin who lives near Inverness. His name is Ian Thorston, and he keeps Scottish Deerhounds on his estate,” Stoick said. “He sent Skully and Thor to me a few years ago when they were puppies, said I was alone too much and needed some company.” Stoick smiled at his own dogs. “And he was right; they are good company.”

“Ian’s twins are living in London now too, going to school and studying drama, although it sounds to me like they spend more time partying than anything else,” Stoick remarked.   
“They’ve become friends with Scott Jorgenson too, so you might meet them as well.” 

He stood up from the table. “Would you like to see the house?”

They spent the next couple hours touring the house and gardens; the dogs following along at their heels. Lambourn Hall was truly breath-taking. The rooms on the ground floor were what Stoick called ‘the show rooms’. Besides the entrance hall, there was the drawing room, the formal dining room, the music room, a ball room that stretched across the back of the house, and the library. All were spacious-almost cavernous- and filled with antiques and heirlooms, with paintings and gilt mirrors on the walls, and statues and even a couple suits of armor standing in the corners. 

It was all beautiful, of course, but it seemed almost like a museum to Hiccup and he wondered what it would be like to actually live here. 

Stoick might have guessed his thoughts, though of course Hiccup had been nothing but complimentary.

“I actually spend most of my time in the family wing upstairs,” he remarked to Hiccup when they were touring the library with its mahogany paneled walls and built-in bookcases. “There are the bedrooms and the family dining room, and I have a study and a sitting room up there. It seems a little more home-like.”

He indicated a portrait hanging over a black marble fireplace. “There’s the first Duke of Berkshire that I was telling you about, Edward Stoick Vastley.”

The man in the portrait was seated at a desk, wearing a scarlet velvet tunic and hat. He didn’t look at all like Stoick, though Hiccup supposed that after so many years, a physical resemblance might be unlikely. The first Duke had fair hair and a thin, harsh face. He stared out with a haughty, aloof expression and even in the portrait, Hiccup thought there was a ruthless gleam in his grey eyes.

“He doesn’t look like you,” Hiccup remarked.

“No, I take after my mother’s side of the family, with the red hair and green eyes,” Stoick replied. “My cousin Ian and I are almost mirror images.” 

Stoick cast a doubtful eye up at the portrait. “Pretty grim, isn’t he? I’m not sure I should be proud to claim him as an ancestor, to be honest.”

He turned away. “Let’s go out and you can see the gardens, although autumn isn’t their best season.”

The formal gardens were laid out behind the Hall. Hiccup imagined they were glorious in the spring when the towering rosebushes and flower beds were abloom. But even now the gardens were impressive, with twisting pebbled paths lined with stone benches, goldfish ponds, and burbling fountains.

It was mid-afternoon by the time they finally finished touring everything and headed back upstairs to the family wing. 

“Our local doctor is coming by at half-past four to take the DNA swabs, and I invited him to stay for tea,” Stoick said. 

They paused outside the bedrooms and Stoick finished a little awkwardly. “Well, I’ll let you unpack and rest for a bit. We’ll meet downstairs in the library at half-past four.”

Hiccup nodded, and he and Toothless went inside the Highlands room. It didn’t take long to put his clothes in the wardrobe and line up his shoes in the bottom drawer. He set his laptop on the desk and wished he had thought to ask Stoick for the wifi password. In spite of everything else going on, he really did need to catch up on editing his book. 

When Hiccup turned around, he noticed that Toothless had managed to jump onto the high bed and had made himself comfortable burying into the mound of pillows.

“Oh, Toothless, Stoick may not allow dogs on the beds. This isn’t home,” Hiccup told him.

Toothless simply gazed back at him, completely unconcerned, and Hiccup sighed. “I guess I can always brush off the pillows.”

He looked around. What would it have been like to grow up at Lambourn Hall? To have a real family, a father and possibly even a mother too? If Hamish hadn’t died, perhaps Valka would have had more will to live, or she might not have even been out in a car then. 

Then Hiccup gave himself a mental shake. Hadn’t he already reminded himself several times not to even begin thinking along those lines? It would be all too easy to let himself start hoping for the impossible. But impossible things were just that—impossible. He had been through enough rejections in his life. He had to protect himself now.

Hiccup glanced at the old-fashioned clock on the wall and noted that there was a little over half an hour before he needed to go down to the library. He went to the bookcase and selected "Oliver Twist".

“It seems kind of appropriate,” he remarked to Toothless. “Although I guess my life hasn’t been as hard as poor Oliver’s.”

When the clock chimed at half-past, Hiccup set down the novel and glanced over at the bed. Toothless was sound asleep on his mountain of pillows so Hiccup decided to let him be. He made his way downstairs and found Stoick already there, greeting a pale dark-haired man in a business suit, though it seemed the doctor had only just arrived.

“This is Dr. John Traylor,” Stoick introduced them. “John, this is Hiccup Haddock.”

Dr. Traylor smiled and reached to shake Hiccup’s hand. “It’s good to meet you. Stoick told me about you when he asked me to come by and collect DNA samples. I don’t know if he mentioned it, but I cared for Valka throughout her pregnancy and delivered little Hamish. It would be a wonderful miracle if you did turn out to be Hamish Vastley.” 

Hiccup noted that the doctor had a slight accent though he spoke English fluently. He nodded and said, “It’s nice to meet you too.”

“Well, why don’t we take care of the DNA samples and then we can enjoy tea?” Dr. Traylor suggested. He stepped to a table where he had set down a brown leather bag and took out swabs and two clear vials, plainly labeled with Stoick’s and Hiccup’s names.

He handed a swab to each of them and said, “Rub this on the inside of your mouth and then place the swab inside the vial with your name.”

Hiccup and Stoick both did so. Dr. Traylor carefully sealed the vials and put them back into his bag. “All right then. I’ll send these off to the lab in the morning, and we should get the results in about two weeks.” 

They pulled up leather armchairs around the table while Mulch brought a pot of tea and a plate of scones. Hiccup was happy to settle back with his cup of warm tea and a hot buttered scone while Stoick and Dr. Traylor chatted.

“So you’ve bought a house in Hungerford?” Stoick asked. “How do you like it?”

Dr. Traylor shrugged. “I would have preferred to buy in Lambourn again, but it’s fine. I was lucky to find anything in the area. The housing market has been tight lately, at least according to my realtor.”

Stoick turned to Hiccup. “John’s been away for some years, actually and he was just able to return a few weeks ago.”

“Yes, I grew up in a small Bavarian village in the Alps,” Dr. Traylor explained. “I was fortunate to win a scholarship to the Cambridge School of Medicine and then I worked at St. Thomas’ in London, but I found that I missed the quiet country life so when I had the opportunity to come out here, I jumped at it. But then my mother became ill. I was the only family she had left. My father had died years ago and there was no one else to care for her. So I returned to Mittenwald, my old home in Bavaria. Sadly, my mother’s illness was long and debilitating. She passed away a few months ago, and I decided that I wanted to return to the Lambourn area where I had been so happy.”

“I was sorry to hear about your mother,” Stoick told him. 

“Thank you, but she had suffered a long time so it was a blessing, really,” Dr. Traylor responded.

“You know, I remember being surprised when you said you were from Mittenwald,” Stoick remarked. “My grandfather used to go on skiing holidays there all the time when he was young. He loved it. He always did say it was the most beautiful place in the world.”

“It is lovely,” Dr. Traylor agreed. “When was your grandfather there?”

“Hmm, late 1930s, I suppose. Just before World War II. I don’t think he ever went there again after the war,” Stoick replied.

Dr. Traylor finished his tea and set his cup down. “I hope you’ll forgive me if I eat and run, but I wanted to check in on old Mrs. Everly while I’m near Lambourn. Stoick, thank you very much for the tea. Hiccup, again, it was nice to meet you.” 

Stoick and Hiccup said their good-byes and Stoick went to see the doctor out. Hiccup paused to look at the portrait over the mantel. Although he knew it was ridiculous, it seemed to him that the first duke gazed down at him in contemptuous disdain, judging him as an unworthy descendant. 

Hiccup lifted his chin and walked out of the library.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Notes: Thank you all for reading. Please leave a review. I appreciate it so much! I hope you enjoy the chapter—there is a lot going on here, even if it’s not obvious at first glance.
> 
> British Terms
> 
> Tartan—Plaid.
> 
> Scone—A baked good, somewhat similar to an American biscuit. It may have different fillings and be slightly sweet. Traditionally served with jam and/or clotted cream, though today healthier alternatives are popular.


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m putting the British terms at the beginning this time:
> 
> Jumper—Sweater.
> 
> Tortola—Technically not a British term, but Tortola is the largest of the British Virgin Islands.
> 
> Hacking—An equestrian term more than a British one. It means casual riding, usually on trails and through fields. 
> 
> Rashers—Bacon. British bacon is chewier and thicker than American bacon, and served in round slices, according to Wikipedia —I’ve never tried it that way myself.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Please review!

Chapter Six

A cold nose poking at his face and a weight lying across his chest woke Hiccup the next morning. He opened his eyes to find Toothless watching him intently, scarcely an inch away. 

“Hey, bud,” he murmured sleepily. “Why don’t we snooze for a few more minutes?”

But Toothless poked at him again and licked his cheek with a soft, yet demanding whine.

“Oh, all right, Mr. Bossy.”

Hiccup climbed out of bed, looking about at the unfamiliar room. It must be early, as the sky outside the windows was still grey and the room was semi-dark. Rather to his surprise, he had slept well, probably from a combination of being tired and full from the delicious dinner of beef stroganoff he and Stoick had shared the night before. The evening had been a little awkward, as they struggled to find things to talk about, and Hiccup had been both relieved and a little disappointed when, after dinner, Stoick had said that he needed to go over some of the estate accounts before bed.

At least Hiccup had thought to ask about the wi-fi connection, so he had finally managed to get some editing done for his book. Escaping into the world of his fictional friends and dragons was a comforting tactic for Hiccup, but he had genuinely needed to work on it too, and he was pleased that at least he had made progress on that. 

Now he just had to get through his first full day at Lambourn Hall.

Well, Toothless needed to go out, so Hiccup supposed he could start by going for a walk. He had taken a quick shower before bed so now he only needed to get dressed. It would be chilly, especially this early, so Hiccup hurried to the wardrobe and selected a plaid shirt, a moss-green jumper, jeans, thick socks, and hiking boots. Then he went to brush his teeth and drag a hairbrush through his chestnut hair. 

“Okay, I guess we’re ready.”

He and Toothless made their way downstairs, as quietly as possible. But at the door, Hiccup paused. It seemed likely that there would be an alarm system and he certainly didn’t want to wake Stoick and rest of the household by setting off a screeching alarm.

He glanced down at Toothless. “We may have a problem, bud.”

But just then there was the soft sound of footsteps and the click of dogs’ claws on the marble floor of the great hall. Hiccup turned to see Stoick and his deerhounds coming towards them as Toothless yipped happily and scampered to greet Skullcrusher and Thornado. The Duke was dressed similarly to Hiccup, in a blue jumper, jeans, and hiking boots.

“Good morning. You’re up early,” Stoick remarked.

Hiccup nodded. “I’m used to getting up early. Toothless doesn’t let me lie in often anyway.”

“Yes, these two like to go out early too.” Stoick nodded towards his dogs. “I usually take them for a short walk before breakfast. Perhaps you and Toothless would like to join us?”

Then he stopped, glancing down at Hiccup’s leg uncertainly. “If you’re comfortable, that is…” his voice trailed off awkwardly.

But Hiccup just smiled. “Oh, I’m fine walking and running as long as I have my own shoes. I have a lift built in to the left ones, so my leg doesn’t bother me most of the time.”

He hesitated. “I guess I should have said something yesterday, but I thought I would be all right for just a short walk.”

“It was thoughtless of us not to remember,” Stoick replied as he opened the door and they stepped outside. The dogs ran ahead, across the paved terrace and down several steps to race across the left side lawn which stretched far off to a distant line of trees, dark and shadowy in the early morning light.

“Hamish was supposed to have surgery for his leg length discrepancy,” Stoick said quietly as they followed the dogs. “But the surgeon wanted to wait a few months, let him grow a little bigger and stronger. But then the fire happened…”

Stoick’s voice trailed off. Hiccup glanced up at him and saw that the Duke was staring straight ahead, his jaw tight.

After a moment of painful silence, Hiccup spoke, “A few months ago I met with some surgeons too, to see if they could do anything about my leg. But they said it was too late now.”

He smiled wryly. “I guess it’s a good thing that I could afford to have all my shoes specially made.” 

Stoick hesitated. “When you were growing up in the Children’s Home, did you never see anyone about your leg then?”

Hiccup shrugged. “I always had a pair of orthopedic shoes. Well, except a couple times when I outgrew the old pair before the new ones came.”

He lifted his chin and said firmly, “But I managed.”

Stoick simply nodded, looking slightly troubled. Then he changed the subject, pointing to a narrow gravel path that ran along the side of the lawn until it curved out of sight beyond some trees. “That path leads to the old stables. They’ve been converted to a gift and tea shop now.”

“Is the Hall open for tours?” Hiccup asked.

“Not for much of the year,” Stoick answered. “But I travel during the summer. I go out to Coral Bay, my resort in Tortola, and then visit the family in Inverness. While I’m gone, the house and gardens are open to the public, usually June through August. But I mentioned it to see if you might be interested in going out to the new stables after breakfast?”

Hiccup nodded. “Yes, thanks. It sounded interesting.” 

That wasn’t entirely true; he didn’t feel strongly about seeing the racing stables or not, but he wanted to be polite and he supposed it was as good a way as any to spend a few hours. 

Stoick nodded too. He smiled sadly, fondly. “Valka was the horse-nut in the family. She could spend all day at the stables, riding and discussing every detail of the horses’ care and training. I rode with her sometimes, but it wasn’t really my thing. She had hoped that Hamish would take after her in that regard. I remember that the very day she found out she was pregnant, she told Finn to keep an eye out for a quiet, well-mannered pony for our child to learn how to ride.”

“I like animals, especially dogs, but I’ve never ridden a horse,” Hiccup told him. He shook his head. “I haven’t even seen many real horses, just the London mounted police every now and then.” 

“Well, you can see a hundred of them later this morning,” Stoick replied. He glanced over at Hiccup. “If you’d like to try riding, there are several very quiet ones that would be suitable, as Gobber said.”

But Hiccup quickly shook his head. “That’s okay. I think I’ll just watch.”

He glanced at Stoick. “Do you really have a hundred horses?”

“A hundred and four, I believe,” the Duke answered. “There are several stallions, the broodmares and the young stock, the ones currently racing, and some older retired horses, plus the few quiet ones for hacking around here.”

Hiccup smiled. “That’s a lot of horses.”

Stoick smiled too. “It is, especially since I don’t ride much myself, isn’t it? But the Lambourn racing stable has been around for almost two hundred years and I suppose I feel that I ought to keep it going. And I think Valka would come back and haunt me if I sold off any of her beloved horses.”

They strolled along in silence for a few minutes, watching Toothless and the deerhounds cavorting across the lawn.

“I’ve always loved sailing,” Stoick remarked eventually. “There’s nothing like being on the water, with the wind catching the sails, and you’re just flying along as if you had wings. I used to sail often, but when I inherited this place, I had to give it up for the most part. Maybe if Lambourn were near the coast…,” he shrugged. “That’s one reason I go to Coral Bay for a few weeks in the summer. I have a boat there and I can take it out most days.” 

He looked over to Hiccup. “But enough about me. What are your hobbies?”

Hiccup shook his head self-deprecatingly. Now Stoick really would think he was pathetic. For a second, he considered just making something up, but he would probably sound ridiculous if he pretended to be knowledgeable about any unfamiliar subject. In any case, Hiccup was inherently honest and disliked lying, even if it seemed harmless.

“I don’t really have any,” he admitted. “Except for walking and jogging with Toothless, I’m not athletic at all.”

He shot Stoick a glance from the corner of his eye to see how the man would take that. 

But Stoick only commented, “There are hobbies besides sports.”

“Yes,” Hiccup considered. “I guess my books are my hobby, just making up the stories and writing them.”

“I suppose you’re fortunate to have been able to turn your hobby into a successful career,” Stoick said after a moment. “But it sounds a little lonely too.”

Hiccup lifted his head and answered curtly, “I’m fine as long as I have Toothless.”

He regretted his sharp tone at once—would he ever stop putting his foot in his mouth around Stoick?—but the man had touched a nerve, one that Hiccup had not realized was still so sensitive. 

Old memories flashed through Hiccup’s mind—a time when he was young and still hopeful that the other children would include him in their games, only to be cruelly rebuffed and mocked; years of sitting alone off in a corner while the others laughed and talked and played together; even several times over the past few months when he had hoped that things could be different now that he was away from the Children’s Home and a successful author, just to find that people only cared about his fortune and fame.

Why was it that he could never find a friend, not a single person who might like him for himself and enjoy spending time together? Was he really such a terrible person?

He started to apologize—again—to Stoick, but the Duke spoke first, in a quiet tone. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“No, I was rude to you,” Hiccup answered. “I’m sorry.”

Stoick took a deep breath. “Well, it’s time for breakfast. Shall we head back?”

He called to the dogs and then they walked back to the Hall in silence. Once again, Mulch took the dogs off to have their own meal while Stoick and Hiccup went upstairs to the family dining room. Breakfast was as tasty as dinner the night before, but while they ate their eggs, rashers, and fried tomato slices, Hiccup couldn’t help but feel a little uncomfortable and guilty. He didn’t know how to talk with Stoick and the older man didn’t seem inclined to speak much either, so the conversation was limited to Stoick asking him to pass the salt and Hiccup complimenting the food. 

After breakfast they went back outside. Someone had brought a black Land Rover around near the entry, but before they climbed in, Stoick paused.

“Skully and Thor know to keep out of the horses’ way. Do you think Toothless will be all right?” 

Hiccup looked down at his shaggy black dog. Toothless was highly intelligent, but he could be excitable and he wasn’t accustomed to horses.

“Maybe I should go get his lead.”

“There’s no need for you to have to go back inside,” Stoick said. “We can get a horse lead rope at the stables. That should do.”

They climbed in, with the dogs piling into the back, and Stoick drove down the lane. When they reached the road, he turned left and went several miles beyond the main gatehouse entrance to turn in at a second drive. 

The second entrance was not as large and grand as the first, though there was a wrought-iron gate and stone posts. A bronze plaque on one read ‘Lambourn Hall Stables’. Stoick pressed a button on the Rover’s dashboard and then drove through slowly as the gates opened. Post and rail fences lined both sides of the drive and beyond them, horses grazed in wide fields. 

A moment later the Land Rover pulled into the cobbled courtyard of a large brick and stone stable. As they parked and climbed out, a small, thin man came to greet them.  
He was middle-aged, had a shock of fair hair and bright blue eyes, and wore a denim shirt and olive-green trousers.

“My eyes must be deceiving me,” he called. “It can’t be Stoick Vastley coming out to the stables at half past eight in the morning.” 

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Stoick agreed. “But we need a lead rope first of all. We have a dog with us who’s not used to being around horses.”

The man turned to call back to someone inside the stables and a moment later a woman in a red jacket and beige trousers came to join him. She handed a thin leather lead to Hiccup, who fastened it to Toothless’ collar before letting him jump down from the Rover.

“Hiccup, this is Finn Hofferson, the head trainer here at Lambourn,” Stoick introduced. He nodded to the woman, who was also small and had short dark hair. “And this is his wife, Gwen. She used to be our top jockey, and now she’s in charge of working with the young horses.”

Finn and Gwen? Hiccup kept his face serious as he said hello, but he did think their rhyming names were a little humourous. 

Perhaps the Hoffersons were used to people commenting on their names because Finn grinned and said, “Finn and Gwen, yes, we know. My brother always used to laugh at our names, said we were a perfect match and our names proved it.”

Then he turned serious. “Well, Stoick, I know you didn’t come out here just to chat. What can we do for you?”

“Actually, we just came to let Hiccup tour the stables,” Stoick explained. “He’s visiting for a couple weeks and I thought he might find it interesting.”

At that moment a groom led a magnificent snow-white stallion from the stables. They all paused to watch as the groom led him to a paddock on the opposite side of the courtyard and turned him loose inside. The white horse stood perfectly still for a moment, his neck arched, his head lifted proudly, before he trotted over to the one mud puddle in the field and promptly lay down and rolled in it.

Gwen Hofferson burst out laughing. “Thunderstorm never changes, does he? Contrary as always.”

Stoick laughed too. “I guess he’s earned the right.” He turned to Hiccup. “Thunderstorm is probably the greatest horse Lambourn Hall has ever produced. He won the Gold Cup at Ascot and the Epsom Derby. Many of his offspring have gone on to become champions too. So we’ll forgive him a little contrariness.”

“Ah, he isn’t really that difficult,” Finn defended the stallion. “Just a bit spirited. Wish he’d stayed chestnut instead of greying out, though. Maybe it would hide the mud stains.”

He too looked over to Hiccup and said, “Greys can be lovely, but they’re the very devil to keep clean.”

Hiccup glanced at the now muddy white horse and then back. “Grey? He looks white to me—or he did.” 

Gwen explained. “Horse people call white horses grey. You see, they’re not born white. They’re usually born black or brown or a dark bay, sometimes chestnut. But if a horse has inherited the greying gene, then their coat will begin to turn grey. They become dapple grey and eventually white. Thunderstorm was completely white by the time he was five, which is still pretty young for a horse. On the other hand, his son Storm Chaser is still a dark dapple and he’s nearly twelve.”

“I never knew that,” Hiccup remarked. “It’s interesting.”

There was the soft sound of hooves clip-clopping across the cobblestones and Thunderstorm neighed loudly. They all turned to see a line of a dozen horses walking across the courtyard, exercise riders perched on their backs.

“We were about to let this group stretch their legs,” Finn said. “Shall we head to the track?”

The exercise track was behind the stable. They stood by the rail watching as the riders warmed up first, letting the horses trot and canter slowly about. Stoick chatted with the Hoffersons about the various colts and fillies and their prospects for future racing. 

Hiccup reached down to pat Toothless’ head. “What do you think about all this, bud? You’re being really good.”

And he was. Though he had been watching everything intently, Toothless seemed to be taking cues from the deerhounds and he had stayed quietly at Hiccup’s side, not barking or pulling at the lead. 

Now he wagged his tail and licked Hiccup’s hand before turning his attention back to the track. Hiccup smiled and followed suit.

They watched as Finn had the riders line up in groups of four and take turns galloping down the track. Gwen explained to Hiccup that they were only letting the horses exercise and keep fit, that they were not seriously training for a race, as the off-season had just begun. But even so, she and Finn had stopwatches out and paid close attention to the horses’ times.

Hiccup enjoyed it for a while, but eventually just watching the groups of horses run became a little boring, and he was glad when Stoick mentioned that he and Hiccup would go back to the stables.

“You can stay here,” he assured the trainers. “We don’t want to take you away from your work, and I can show Hiccup around.” 

As they walked back, Stoick remarked. “I don’t know about you, but I can only take so much of that.”

Hiccup grinned, but wasn’t sure if it would be rude to agree. 

“Well, before we go, there’s someone else I’d like you to meet.” Stoick led the way inside the stables. They walked down a wide, well-lit aisle, past rows of roomy box stalls where gleaming horses munched on hay or stuck their heads over the door to watch them.

Hiccup was expecting to be introduced to a person and he was surprised when Stoick stopped before a stall and indicated the horse inside, a tall chestnut with a narrow white stripe down his face and four neat white socks. A shiny brass nameplate on the stall door read ‘Cloudjumper’.

“Cloudjumper was Valka’s favorite horse,” Stoick said quietly. “He never raced. He was born on the day we were engaged and I gave him to her as an early wedding gift.”

Cloudjumper stepped close and reached his head out to them. 

Stoick rubbed the horse’s forehead. “I used to tease her that Cloudjumper was the true love of her life, that she only married me to get the horse. And then she would kiss me and say that she would have married me if I’d been a penniless pauper. Then she would grin and say that having the horses didn’t hurt though.”

There was a moment’s silence. Hiccup wasn’t sure what to say and he just quietly stroked Cloudjumper’s neck. 

Stoick cleared his throat, looking embarrassed, and said abruptly, “I need to step in the office a minute and speak with Ms. Jones about the Newmarket sales.”

He strode away quickly with Skully and Thor at his heels, leaving Hiccup to stand there with Toothless, patting Cloudjumper.

The chestnut horse gently nudged Hiccup with his soft muzzle. Hiccup smiled at him a little sadly. “Sorry, I don’t have any treats for you. Maybe next time.”

Cloudjumper gave him one last nudge and then seemed to give up, stepping further back into his stall to eat hay from his feed box.

Hiccup stood there for a little while longer, but when Stoick didn’t return he decided to step outside. Cloudjumper’s stall was at the end of the row, next to an outside door and surely Stoick would see him there. 

“Come on, Toothless. We’ll wait out here.”

But just as he and Toothless stepped outside, there was a loud clatter of hooves and a girl’s voice yelled sharply, “Watch out!”

Hiccup spun around to see a dapple grey horse careen wildly towards them while the girl on its back struggled to gain control. But the horse snatched the bit in its teeth, reared up with flailing hooves, and then raced straight towards Hiccup and Toothless at a dead gallop.


	7. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

For a second Hiccup stood frozen in disbelief, but then he jumped back inside the stable doorway, pulling Toothless along with him, as the dapple grey horse thundered past.

A loud neigh, right next to his ear, made him jump and Hiccup turned to see that Cloudjumper had stuck his head over his stall door to see what was going on.

“You’re right,” Hiccup told him. “That was too close.” 

He took a deep breath to steady himself and looked down at Toothless. “Are you all right, bud?”

Toothless barked and wagged his tail. 

Hiccup stepped back outside, more cautiously this time, to see that the girl had managed to get her horse under control, somewhat at least. The dapple grey filly was no longer galloping madly about. The blonde girl was turning her in circles, though the horse was snorting and half-rearing in protest before finally settling down to a walk.

The blond girl flung herself from the saddle and stomped over to Hiccup, leading the horse by the reins.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, just stepping out of the door like that? You almost got trampled!”

Hiccup had been about to ask if she was all right, but the girl’s furious and proprietary attitude sparked his own, normally-mild temper.

He arched an eyebrow as he answered in a cool tone. “Me? I may not know much about horses or running a stable, but I don’t think galloping a dangerous horse right beside the doorway is a clever idea. I doubt the Hoffersons would either.” 

The girl started to snap back, but then she stopped and took a deep, shaky breath. “Stormfly’s not dangerous.”

Hiccup just looked at her with an incredulous expression.

“She’s not, really. She was just scared,” the girl insisted. “She’s been abused and we’re working on re-training her and getting her to trust people again. She’s made a lot of progress, but a branch fell from a tree and it made a loud cracking sound, and well, she got a bit panicky.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Hiccup agreed wryly. 

Gwen Hofferson, walking back towards the stables from the exercise track, happened to notice them and frowned as she called, “Astrid, I thought we’d agreed you weren’t to ride Stormfly without supervision. She’s still at an early point in her training.”

She paused, taking in the sweating, heavily breathing horse and the two young people, both of whom looked a bit shaken and out of sorts. “Is everything all right?”

“Everything’s fine, Aunt Gwen,” the blonde girl replied. “I just need to cool out Stormfly.”

Gwen gave Hiccup a questioning look. He hesitated, while the girl watched him anxiously. 

Slowly Hiccup nodded. “Everything’s fine.”

Gwen didn’t look entirely convinced but she only said, “Well, cool her out then before she gets chilled.” She walked past them into the stable.

The blonde girl took off her riding helmet and set it on a narrow bench by the outside wall. She glanced at Hiccup awkwardly.

“Um, thanks…for not saying anything to Aunt Gwen about, well, you know.”

“About how you almost mowed us down?” Hiccup asked. “You’re welcome.”

“I’ve got to cool her out. That means I need to walk her around until she’s dried out and not breathing hard anymore. Horses can get chilled easily. Whoever came up with that saying ‘healthy as a horse’ obviously didn’t know the first thing about them.” The girl started to walk away, leading the dapple grey filly. Then she paused and looked back. “You want to walk with us?”

It wasn’t every day that a pretty girl asked him to go for a walk. In fact, Hiccup couldn’t remember anything like that ever happening before. But Stoick would surely be returning soon and he might be annoyed if he couldn’t find Hiccup. 

“Sure, if we can just walk around right out here. Stoick might come looking for me and I don’t want to be out of sight,” Hiccup explained as he and Toothless joined the girl.

She seemed slightly surprised. “You know Lord Vastley then?”

“Um yea, well, a little bit. I’m visiting Lambourn Hall for a couple weeks. I’m Hiccup Haddock, and this is Toothless.”

“Oh, and I’m Astrid Hofferson. Sorry, I should have already introduced myself. And this is Stormfly.” Astrid indicated the horse.

“Yea, so I’ve heard.” 

Astrid actually laughed and Hiccup grinned at her, suddenly feeling happier than he had since coming to Lambourn. She really was very pretty, with thick fair hair in a long braid down her back. Her royal blue shirt and beige trousers showed off her slender but strong figure, and her blue eyes sparkled at him.

“Finn and Gwen are my aunt and uncle. I’ve always loved horses and riding, and spent my summer holidays here with them at the stables,” Astrid explained. “After I graduated last spring, I moved here for good.”

She grimaced. “It caused a bit of a row with my parents, actually. They wanted me to go to university and study something practical. But I want to train horses.” She glanced at him. “What about you?”

Hiccup started to say, “I don’t have parents,” but then stopped abruptly. Was that really true? Well, of course it was. His parents were dead, or had abandoned him, or some such. Stoick Vastley was no relation to him. Hiccup felt irritated with himself for doubting it even for an instant. 

“Well, I have Toothless and normally we live in London,” he said after an awkward moment.

“Oh, what section?” Astrid asked. “I’m from Bloomsbury.”

Again, Hiccup hesitated. Forge Street wasn’t in the best part, while Park Lane was in one of the most upscale. He didn’t want to come across wrong either way, but then he decided that he was being ridiculous. There was nothing wrong with Forge Street or Park Lane. If Astrid wanted to judge him by the place he came from, Hiccup wasn’t going to worry about it.

“I grew up on Forge Street, but now we have a flat on Park Lane.”

Astrid only nodded. “So how did you meet Lord Vastley? Or am I being nosy?”

Hiccup certainly didn’t want to explain the whole situation, so he only said, “We met through Gobber actually. Um, that’s Gulliver Bell. He works with Stoick.” 

That was true at least, even if it was only a small part of the story. 

Astrid nodded again. “I’ve met Gobber a few times. The villages around here are kind of small, so if you stay long enough, you get to know people, at least by name.” 

Hiccup was afraid she might ask more questions about his past or why he was at Lambourn, so he decided to change the subject.

“What happened to Stormfly? I’m sure no one here would have abused her.” He glanced over to the horse, who seemed calm enough now, just walking easily alongside Astrid.

“Oh no. No one here would,” Astrid agreed. She reached over to lightly stroke Stormfly’s neck. “Well, she was born here, but she went to the Newmarket sales when she was a yearling. She’s one of Thunderstorm’s, and her dam, Butterfly, was a good racehorse too, in her day. So Stormfly’s got excellent bloodlines. But she’s sensitive, like a lot of Thunderstorm’s offspring, and I guess the people who had her weren’t very patient and it sounds like things just started going downhill for her. At her first race, she didn’t even make it halfway through because the jockey was beating her and she was fighting him.”

Astrid’s lips tightened and Hiccup could see that she was obviously upset. But then Astrid took a deep breath and continued, “But luckily, my aunt and uncle were there. They called Stoick, and he told them to buy her and bring her back home immediately.” 

Hiccup had to smile at that. Stoick did seem to have a soft spot for animals. He noted too, that Astrid had referred to Stoick by his first name rather than the more formal title.

“So Stormfly came back here and we’re working on helping her to heal and to re-train her. She’s got speed and stamina. I think she could be a champion one day. She’s made a lot of progress already. At first we could barely get near her.”

“Here,” Astrid fished a piece of carrot from her pocket and handed it to Hiccup. “You can give her a treat. We always give her a reward after working, so she will associate it with something pleasant.”

“I’m not sure almost trampling Toothless and me qualifies for a reward,” Hiccup remarked wryly. He looked to Stormfly, who was watching him eagerly. “Oh, all right.”

“Wait.” Astrid stopped him. “Hold your hand flat, with the carrot lying on your palm. You don’t want Stormfly to nibble on your fingers by mistake.”

“No, that wouldn’t be good,” Hiccup agreed. He held the carrot out the way Astrid had showed him and Stormfly’s lips lightly tickled as she gently accepted her treat. 

“You can pet her,” Astrid went on. “Just don’t move too suddenly.”

“Um…” Hiccup eyed the horse uncertainly. But Stormfly did seem perfectly at ease now and Hiccup reached to pet her on the neck. 

“Hiccup? Are you ready to leave?” Stoick’s voice called.

Stormfly lifted her head sharply at the sudden noise, but then she relaxed again as they all looked back to see the Duke standing in the stable doorway, with his deerhounds at his side.

Hiccup hesitated. He would have liked to have continued walking and talking with Astrid, but he didn’t want to keep Stoick waiting so he called back. “Yes, I’m coming.”

“Well, it was nice meeting you, Dragon Boy,” Astrid told him. “See you around.”

Hiccup stared as she walked away, leading Stormfly. “Wait, you know who I am?”

She grinned back at him. “Doesn’t everyone?”

“Actually no,” Hiccup murmured after her retreating form. “No one knows who I am, not even me.”

Toothless whined softly and Hiccup glanced down at him. “Come on, bud.”

They hurried back to the stable, where Stoick was waiting. 

It was lunchtime when they arrived back at Lambourn Hall, and as they were finishing their French onion soup and sandwiches, Mulch came to announce that Bob Ingerman was waiting downstairs to discuss some estate business with Stoick. 

The Duke nodded and rose from his place at the table. “Tell him to come to my study please, Mulch.”

He looked at Hiccup. “I’m sorry, but I’ll probably be tied up with this for the next couple hours. Feel free to explore the grounds, or to get a book from the library, or whatever you wish.”

The dogs had not accompanied Mulch back to the dining room, so Hiccup decided that he would check on Toothless first of all. The butler told him that the dogs ate and had dog beds in the mud room near the kitchen. 

“They had settled down there when I fed them a few minutes ago, sir,” Mulch informed Hiccup before he headed off to do whatever butlers did throughout the day. “The kitchen is on the ground floor, in the right side wing.”

So Hiccup wandered downstairs past the impressive reception rooms until, near the rear of the manor house, he saw a narrow hall leading to the right. Following it, he discovered the long kitchen, where several staff members were cleaning and loading dishes into a dishwasher. They all looked busy and didn’t notice him, so after a quick glance inside,   
Hiccup turned away and found the mud room along the other side of the corridor.

Though its purpose was utilitarian, the mud room was a bright and pleasant area, with bluestone flooring and built-in shelves and cubbies on one wall where coats, hats, and scarves hung neatly on their hooks with rows of Wellington boots standing underneath. Silver bowls for the dogs’ food and water were lined up by another wall, underneath the leaded windows and Mulch, or someone else, had placed a third set out for Toothless. Radiators were installed on each side of the outside door, softly humming as they kept the room comfortably warm.

Toothless, Skullcrusher, and Thornado were all lying in a pile together on enormous fluffy cushions. The deerhounds appeared to be sound asleep. Toothless did open his eyes and wag his tail at Hiccup’s approach, before closing his eyes and relaxing again.

Hiccup shook his head. “Some watchdogs,” he teased. But as the dogs all seemed to be settled in for an afternoon nap, he decided to take Stoick’s suggestion and go for a walk. He could always stand to work on his books some more, but he was caught up for the moment and it might be nice to take a look around on his own. 

He glanced at the rows of coats and boots. But though it was a tad chilly, he didn’t think it was cool enough for a jacket and Hiccup didn’t feel like going back to his room for his own boots. The sun was out so the ground shouldn’t be as muddy as yesterday. If it were, then he could always return for them.

Hiccup went out the mud room door and followed the path through the gardens. Beyond the dormant flower gardens was a maze, with clipped hedges high above Hiccup’s head. He paused at the open entrance, but then moved on. Finding his way through the maze might be fun another time, but right now he wanted to explore the fields and forests near the Hall.

There was a short stretch of lawn beyond the maze, and then the woods. The trees were thick, but a wide grassy trail was easy enough to follow. Hiccup’s pace slowed as he entered the forest, and sometimes he stopped and stood still to listen to the birds’ songs, the rustle of the leaves, and the occasional crackling of twigs as some small woodland creature scurried away.

Having grown up in the city, his only previous experience with nature was the great Hyde Park, and while the park was a lovely oasis, it couldn’t be compared to the true countryside. Hyde Park had its paved walkways and bridges, the man-made fountains and statues, and always- always-other people around. This was completely different.  
He definitely needed to buy a house in the country, Hiccup decided. Maybe a little land too. Toothless would like to have some space to run and play. He couldn’t be too far away from the city, as he would need to go in periodically. But there was no reason he couldn’t live in one of the home counties. He would look up a good real estate agent once he was back in London.

Pleased with his decision, Hiccup moved on. He had been right; the ground was much firmer today. There were still a few boggy patches here and there, especially in the shady places where the trees cast long shadows, but Hiccup avoided them easily and followed the path until it abruptly ended in a vast clearing.

He paused at the edge. The clearing didn’t seem like a natural space; it was so wide and the grass was neatly trimmed, not overgrown and wild. But there were no ruins or any other indications of what this place might be.

Or so Hiccup thought until he took another step and realized there was a small stone plaque set into the ground. It was inscribed with two names and a date—the twenty-eighth of May, eighteen years in the past.

Hamish Stoick Vastley III and Anne Louise Bailey

Hiccup shivered as a sudden chill ran down his spine. Was this…?”

“It’s not a grave, just a memorial plaque,” a quiet voice spoke nearby.

Hiccup jumped and spun to see Fishlegs Ingerman sitting on a plaid blanket a short distance away, also at the edge of woods. He wore jeans, a navy-blue hooded sweatshirt, and had a red lunchbox with sandwiches, an apple, and a small bag of chips spread before him. A brindle bulldog lay beside him, keeping a close eye on the sandwiches.

Hiccup looked at him and then back at the stone plaque. “The dower house used to be here?”

Fishlegs nodded. “Yea. There wasn’t much left after the fire, and Lord and Lady Vastley had everything cleared away. Lord Vastley told my dad to make sure this area was always kept up, even though he never comes out here. Understandable, I guess.”

He waved a hand. “You’re welcome to sit down if you want.” He grinned. “I promise not to bug you about your books.”

Hiccup smiled as he went to sit cross-legged on the blanket. “I don’t mind, although I think my publishers would kill me if I told you anything about the new ones.”

“That’s okay. I shouldn’t have asked.” Fishlegs patted the bulldog and introduced her. “This is Meatlug. Don’t worry. She may look fierce, but she’s a sweetheart.” He broke off a piece of sandwich and handed it to Hiccup. “Here, give her food and she’ll be your friend for life.”

Hiccup gave the bite to Meatlug and allowed her to sniff at his fingers before gently patting her head. “I have a dog too, Toothless.”

“The black dog running around with Skully and Thor yesterday, right?” 

“That’s him,” Hiccup grinned. “He’s quite the character.”

“Yea, Meatlug is too.” Fishlegs held out the bag of chips. “Want some?”

“Thanks, but I’ve already eaten,” Hiccup told him.

“Yea, I’m having a late lunch today. Usually I’d be at home, but I like peace and quiet, and well, to be honest, Mum and my sister were arguing so it wasn’t very peaceful or quiet. It’s a nice day so I thought I’d just come out here to eat,” Fishlegs explained.

“Oh,” Hiccup almost asked what they were arguing about, but realized in time how rude that would be. 

But Fishlegs volunteered the information anyway. “A kid from her school is having a party, but the kid’s parents aren’t going to be home so Mum said that’s a definite no.”

He shook his head. “Maddie’s a good kid, but she thinks she ought to be able to do everything I do, even though I’m eighteen and she’s only twelve.”

“Oh,” Hiccup repeated. He wasn’t sure what to say, so only commented, “I don’t have siblings so I don’t really know what that’s like.”

“Yea, I know. You were found on the police station doorstep and grew up in a children’s home,” Fishlegs said eagerly. He abruptly and turned a bright red. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. I just meant that I’ve read those little biographies on your book jackets, and I saw you on ‘The Morning Show’ the other day, and so I know what all you said there.”

Hiccup started to say “Oh,” for the third time, but then stopped himself because he was sounding more like a tongue-tied idiot than a successful author. He was supposed to be good with words, after all! 

Instead he grimaced wryly. “I guess I don’t have many secrets anymore, after that interview. I didn’t really want to do it. It’s hard, talking about personal stuff with strangers, you know. But my agent talked me into it. He says any publicity is good publicity. I suppose that’s part of his job.”

Then he shrugged. “But I wouldn’t be here, if I hadn’t done that interview.”

Fishlegs looked curious. “I wondered how you knew Lord Vastley. Did he see the interview?”

Hiccup paused, realizing that he had led them towards the very subjects he wanted to avoid. 

“No, Gobber did. We met through him,” Hiccup finally said and then quickly changed the subject, “So you work here with your dad?”

Fishlegs studied him with an odd expression and Hiccup was a little nervous about what he might ask next. But then the other boy only answered Hiccup’s question.

“Yes, for now at least. I’m taking a gap year, to work and save some money. Next year I want to go to university and study history and writing.”

He suddenly seemed almost embarrassed. “I want to be a writer too, you see, except I want to write non-fiction. I love history and biographies. A lot of people don’t like history, but I think it’s because in school, it seems like you just have to memorize a bunch of names and dates, and that’s boring. If someone could write books and websites and show how history is like this great, exciting story, maybe more people would be interested and would learn more about it.” 

He looked down and reached to scratch Meatlug behind her ears. “I guess that’s silly, and stupid to think that I could be good enough to write like that.”

“I don’t think so,” Hiccup told him. “If that’s what you love doing, I think you’d be good at it.”

“Thanks,” Fishlegs smiled gratefully and then looked determined. “I want to try it anyway, even if my parents think I’d be better off working here and taking over from Dad one day.”

He finished his sandwich and put everything back into his lunchbox, then said rather regretfully, “Well, I guess I better get back to work.”

They stood up and Fishlegs folded the blanket, threw it over his shoulder, and spoke to Meatlug. “Come on, Princess. I’ll take you back home first.” 

He started to leave, but then turned back to Hiccup.

“Hey, I don’t know if you’d want to, but my friends and I are going into Lambourn tomorrow afternoon after church. We might see if anything decent is playing at the cinema, or maybe just walk around and hang out. You’re welcome to join us if you’d like.” 

Hiccup stared. Was Fishlegs really inviting him to go along with him and his friends? There was a curious warmth in his chest as he started to accept, but then he remembered.

“Oh, I’m supposed to have lunch with Stoick and Gobber after church.” He paused. His whole reason for being here was to get to know Stoick better and the Duke might have something planned for tomorrow afternoon. 

He mentioned that to Fishlegs, who only nodded and gave Hiccup his cell number. “Well, if you’re free and want to, you can give me a call. We’ll probably leave about two in the afternoon. Mum’s letting me take her car, so we could pick you up at the Hall. And if it doesn’t work out, that’s fine. Maybe another time.” 

Fishlegs walked away, with the brindle bulldog ambling after him, leaving Hiccup alone in the clearing. 

Hiccup looked around. The place was peaceful and still, so different from how it must have been on that long-ago night in May when a fire had ripped through, devastating so many lives.

After a moment, Hiccup turned and headed back to the path. He would explore a little longer, before heading back to Lambourn Hall and whatever awaited him there.

Author’s Notes: I apologize for the long delay in updating. We lost one of our beloved dogs, Willie, on 11/19, and then a beloved cat, Charlotte, on 12/4. Charlotte was elderly and had health issues, while Willie was young and died from a sudden and unexpected illness. Both losses have been devastating and it’s only been in the past few days that I felt able to return to writing this chapter. I’m sure you can tell from my writing how much I love animals and that I consider them part of my family. I do plan to continue working on my stories, so they haven’t been abandoned, but as you can see, the updates may be slow. I hope you’ll be patient and not give up on me.

This chapter is dedicated to my sweet boy and girl, who are now waiting in Heaven—until we meet again!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> British Terms (and Equestrian):
> 
> Filly—A young female horse.
> 
> Row—An argument or a fight.
> 
> Dam—A horse’s mother.
> 
> Home Counties—the English counties that surround London.
> 
> Author’s Notes: I apologize for the long delay in updating. We lost one of our beloved dogs, Willie, on 11/19, and then a beloved cat, Charlotte, on 12/4. Charlotte was elderly and had health issues, while Willie was young and died from a sudden and unexpected illness. Both losses have been devastating and it’s only been in the past few days that I felt able to return to writing this chapter. I’m sure you can tell from my writing how much I love animals and that I consider them part of my family. I do plan to continue working on my stories, so they haven’t been abandoned, but as you can see, the updates may be slow. I hope you’ll be patient and not give up on me.
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to my sweet boy and girl, who are now waiting in Heaven—until we meet again!


End file.
